


Shall We?

by imyourplusone



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-08-14 06:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 44,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8002648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imyourplusone/pseuds/imyourplusone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He had noticed her immediately. After so many years on the run, Raymond was always conscious of the comings and goings of those around him. She had arrived alone and immediately started scanning the crowd with her eyes. Looking for someone, it seems, and he was just turning away with what surprisingly felt like regret, when she lifted her hand to her ear and appeared to whisper something. Now he was intrigued."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Number Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An AU in which Liz is still an agent for the FBI and Red is still a criminal in a tux, but their first meeting occurs under very different circumstances.
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading and enjoy!

"Agent Keen, have you located the target?"

"Aram, you've got to give me a minute to work the room. There is quite a crowd here, okay," Liz whispers through gritted teeth as she reaches up to touch her ear. She brings her hand down quickly, annoyed by the mistake, and grabs a champagne flute from a passing waiter to prevent the unconscious ear tap while continuing to scan the crowded room.

"Uh, Agent Ressler wanted me to remind you—"

"Aram, you are no longer invited to this party. I'll check in when there is something to report."

"No, no Liz don't turn me off—"

Liz bends forward feigning interest in a painting up for auction, and as her hair falls forward swiftly removes the small earpiece, switching it off with her thumb as she drops it into her clutch.

The charity art auction has brought the D.C. elite together to benefit the local children's hospital, and an ongoing surveillance op of a high ranking defense department official has prompted Liz to crash the party. A leak has been detected and the individual in question has been under scrutiny for weeks in hopes of catching him in the act of selling information, but he is cautious, this one. Never a false move, so they have taken to single agent ops to conduct the surveillance in hopes of not arousing his suspicions.

Between the dancing going on at one end and the milling about the art that would soon be auctioned off at the other, there were hundreds of people to wade through. Of course there are worse assignments than a black tie gala, she realizes as she passes a gentleman cutting a very fine figure in his tux. _Yes, this is not a bad way to spend a Saturday night_ and she sips the champagne even though it's against regulation, but it's all for the sake of appearances and what Ressler doesn't know won't hurt him.

Her target is nowhere to be found. Liz stops in front of a piece that had caught her eye earlier, to get her bearings and to think what to do. The small painting of a windswept coast after a storm is really beautiful and she's wondering how much it will fetch when a deep voice rumbles close to her ear, "You have a good eye. This is one of the best offerings of the night, but I doubt anyone here will appreciate it."

She turns to find herself staring into a pair of lovely eyes and thinks several things at once. First, that she was clearly going soft. _Lovely eyes? Come on, Liz._ Second, the voice belongs to the man she noticed earlier. Third, that now with him right beside her, she realizes this is the face she has looked at almost every day for the past two years. The wanted poster in the fourth position. The one she saw daily at Quantico and now the one she passes on the way to her desk as her eyes are inexplicably drawn to that face hidden behind the glasses and hat. She has never said a word, never brought him up in conversation, never tried to find out more than the standard file says. He was simply her morning ritual. A glance his way and a smile to start her day.

Raymond Reddington.

In the flesh and still waiting for a response with a smile playing at the corners of his eyes.

"Oh well, I'm not an expert by any means, but there is something about the aspect. It reminds me…"

That she is able to speak in her normal voice and has managed not to drop her champagne flute is a proud moment. She pauses and wonders what on earth she is doing conversing with him when she should be arresting him, or at least alerting Aram through the earbud. _That is currently off and at the bottom of my clutch. Okay Liz, think. And breathe!_

"Yes, what does it remind you of?" he prompts, appearing genuinely interested in her answer.

He had noticed her immediately. After so many years on the run, Raymond was always conscious of the comings and goings of those around him. She had arrived alone and immediately started scanning the crowd with her eyes. Looking for someone, it seems, and he was just turning away with what surprisingly felt like regret, when she lifted her hand to her ear and appeared to whisper something.

Ah, now he was intrigued. With all of Washington's finest in the room it wasn't inconceivable that she was simply private security of some sort, but no that wasn't it. The reason he was still free after more than two decades was his finely honed instinct and right now it was telling him to keep this woman in sight and proceed with caution.

The opportunity to see if those instincts were correct presented itself when she passed close by and stopped to admire the painting. And it seemed he really did have a desire to speak with her although why that should be so he wasn't quite sure.

"It reminds me of a holiday I took with my father when I was a child. Somewhere on the East Coast, not exactly sure where. It's a happy memory though."

He gazes down at the painting and muses, "Art should make us feel, and it almost always links us to our pasts in one form or another."

"Yes, I suppose it does."

"Hopefully it will be a happy memory for whomever buys it," he says, turning back to her.

_My goodness, he is trouble._ Liz's mind is reeling as she tries to think what to do and wonders why on earth he is here in D.C. strolling around a society function. _The nerve, honestly._

"Shall we?"

"Shall we what," she whispers and in that moment couldn't have begun to imagine.

His smile broadens as he indicates the dance floor. "Shall we dance? Seems a shame to waste the opportunity."

Before she can say _you have the right…_ Liz finds her arm linked in his as he guides her through the crowd toward the music.

* * *

They've been dancing for several minutes without speaking, content to enjoy the music and both lost in thought, as she lets him navigate them through the crowded floor. Liz can't deny she is intrigued by him and has been since she first laid eyes on him but this is too much! Where did he come from and how did she end up with her hand in his while his other currently occupied a dangerously low position on the small of her back?

This was not the plan and she is both thankful Aram isn't privy to what is happening and frustrated with her hasty decision to cut off communication.

Her assignment was to locate her target, report any suspicious activity, and report back so a team could be brought in to assist her in the takedown if one was warranted. The plan was _not_ to bump into number four and chat with him about art or enjoy this dance much more than she should. It most certainly did not involve complete distraction by the warmth from his hand on her back as he guides their movements with practiced expertise. _Damn_ _him._

Thinking perhaps there was a way to salvage some of her professional pride as well as gain a little information from this master criminal, Liz decides to play along for the time being.

"Has anything caught your eye?"

She doesn't at all miss the mischief behind his smile as he replies, "Yes, without a doubt."

"I'm referring to the auction," she says with a knowing look which makes him laugh.

"Oh that. Yes there are several pieces of interest. We'll have to see how my luck plays out this evening."

"I think you're a man used to making his own luck."

"Well I have my moments," he says and there is no doubt he is enjoying the verbal sparring immensely.

_This is fantastic,_ Liz thinks. _I'll be able to report Reddington is an outrageous flirt and I'm not much better._

The song draws to a close and the two break apart as the auctioneer makes his way to the dais for the evening's fundraising event. Liz knows this is the moment to make her exit and contact Aram, but wants to prolong their time together a bit longer. Doesn't dwell on the reason for this as she extends her hand for his.

"Thank you for the dance Mr…?"

"Dyle. Alexander Dyle."

Looking at him in that tux as he takes her hand, Liz is certain if he had said _Bond, James Bond_ she wouldn't have been at all surprised. She's also certain most of this evening will not be making it into her report later.

She shakes his hand and is pulling back only to find it still held firmly in his own.

"But I don't know your name."

"I'm Elizabeth Keen." She had meant to give an alias. She always uses an alias but he is so distracting she slipped up. _Damn_ _him again!_

Liz expects him to release her hand, but he only holds tighter. Reddington has gone completely still and is looking at her with an intensity that makes her take a step back. _Does he know? Is it possible he knows I'm with the FBI?_

He looks down at her right hand still held in his own and slowly turns it palm up. As his thumb strokes along the faded scar on her wrist, a shiver goes up her arm and Liz realizes this has nothing to do with the fact she is an agent. When his eyes meet hers once again, the astonishment is evident.

"Lizzy?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone familiar with Charade will know immediately where the alias Alexander Dyle came from
> 
>  
> 
> As always many thanks to TravelingSong for keeping me on track


	2. It Was The Twinkle Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the comments and kudos. I really appreciate it
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading and enjoy!

_Lizzy?_

Red comes to himself immediately, dropping her hand, but is unable to take his eyes off her. Knows he should turn on his heel and leave this place immediately, but is powerless to move. Her eyes. Her beautiful blue eyes that he admired only moments ago now hold a slight familiarity that he had not noticed before. Why would he notice? After all these years with no contact, no pictures, only scant reports of her wellbeing delivered verbally by a trusted associate unknown to anyone. No paper trail leading to him and all connection lost, how could he know? How could this possibly be?

He thinks back to the last information he had received. When was it? A year, possibly two. A recent marriage and a new position as an agent with the FBI. He had chuckled at that, thinking of the irony, and wondered what Sam thought of it. Proud without a doubt, and Red remembered how, at the time, he wished he could reach out to his old friend. Really talk to him and fill in the gaps of all the years that have passed, but that wish was never acted on. The report told him of Sam's illness, and although he never received news of his friend's passing he knows that it would have happened by now.

"Mr. Dyle?"

She looks as confused as he feels and notices her rubbing at the scar on her wrist, aware something of importance just occurred between them.

They stand watching each other without speaking as her question hangs in the air around them, oblivious to everything but each other until the auctioneer calls the crowd to order.

He turns then toward the front of the ballroom, all the while scanning the room. Looking for his nearest escape route or for any signs of an approach. Now he understands. FBI Agent Elizabeth Keen was speaking into an earpiece earlier and the only question he needed an immediate answer to was whether it involved himself or was simply a coincidence.

_Of all the women in the room…_

Dembe makes eye contact from his position by the bar and he doesn't miss the knowing smile from his old friend who appears at ease and without any indication of danger. Everything seems fine as the bidding starts and he tells himself to proceed cautiously.

"You called me Lizzy. As if it were…..familiar to you."

Liz doesn't know what just transpired but she intends to get to the bottom of it. Then she intends to bring Reddington into custody with or without backup. His profile is inscrutable as he purposely refuses to meet her eyes and she's wondering if he even heard her until he finally responds.

"Did I? That's your name isn't it?"

"No. That is, yes it is but only a few people call me that. How did you know? How did you know about my scar?"

"Ah well, you look like a Lizzy to me. That must be it," he says, but still refuses to look at her and pointedly ignores her question about her scarred wrist.

She is too close and looking at him too intently for his liking. Can feel her eyes burning into him. He is beginning to feel out of control and losing control often leads to losing one's freedom. This is how mistakes are made and he knows for certain those blue eyes could get him in a world of trouble.

"Ms. Keen, it has been a pleasure, but I really must say goodnight."

But as he turns to leave, he feels her arm slide through his with a strength that surprises him as she leans up to whisper in his ear, "Raymond, I think it's about time we drop the _charade,_ don't you?"

He takes a steadying breath to mask any reaction to her words and makes a valiant effort to ignore the pressure of her leaning into him or that it feels very nice indeed and thinks _oh yes, I'm in trouble now._

Liz is smiling up at him as though they were any other couple deciding what to bid on, but they have both been playing a game from the moment he spoke to her and their next moves will determine how events will unfold. She is prepared to cause a scene and she'd bet her life he could cause a hell of a stir faster than anyone given the opportunity.

"Raymond? I think you mean _Alexander_ or Alex if you prefer."

At this she rolls her eyes and says, "Oh please, you look more like a Raymond Reddington to me. Or do you prefer Red? It's really too bad I'm here tonight because I'm guessing you're used to moving through a crowd with ease and never being recognized."

She almost laughs out loud as he opens his mouth to respond, then shuts it just as quickly and feels a great sense of satisfaction knowing she has won the first round.

"Look, I don't know what is going on but it's time you answered a few questions. Shall we move to the side of the room where it's a little less noisy or do I get loud right here?"

"And then what happens, Lizzy? Or should I call you Special Agent Keen of the Federal Bureau of Investigation? You would have graduated a year ago I'm thinking. That added to your experience as a profiler must make you a very valuable asset. Is that how you were chosen for this particular assignment or did I just get lucky?"

Now it's Liz who is rendered speechless as she is beginning to realize this is fast turning into the most difficult Saturday night of her life.

She looks around and spots a secluded spot near a column and some foliage set out for the occasion at the side of the room. With the crowds attention diverted by the auction taking place, they shouldn't garner too much attention. She intends to keep him close but in public where she can maintain some control over the situation.

"Move it," she says, pulling him along with her.

"Anything you say, sweetheart," comes the whispered reply in her ear that sends a little flutter through her stomach. _Damn him again and again!_

* * *

They arrive at the column next to a large potted tree filled with lights, and Liz pulls him quickly behind, confident they're quite hidden from view, but close enough that she could call for assistance if need be. Although something tells her that won't be necessary. He is dangerous no doubt, but she senses he's a gentleman and would find it rude to hurt her.

"Okay, out with it."

"I beg your pardon," he says feigning shock and is rewarded with a look of total exasperation on her part. She really is beautiful with all that fire in her eyes directed at him. _Fire in her eyes..._

He should get the hell out of there and away from her, he knows it, but simply can't do it. Tells himself it is to find out if she knew he would be there and how that is possible. Is some unknown entity orchestrating this and their connection has been discovered after all these years? It seems he needs just as much information from her as she wants from him.

"You know exactly what I mean. Why did you call me Lizzy and how do you know about my scar? Something is going on, and before I haul you in for espionage and a thousand other things I want an answer."

Red searches her face for a trace of the child he so briefly knew but can find very little and realizes he would never have recognized her if not for his knowledge of her married name and the fact she now lived in Washington. As he looks at her, he thinks of his old friend and is thankful he was there when they needed him. At least one good thing came out of all that mess.

But currently that _one good thing_ has her hands on her hips and is shooting daggers at him with those eyes of hers. He needs to figure out how to handle the current situation and if at all possible ignore how the lights from the tree play across her lovely face or that it reminds him of a starry night.

"Are you carrying?"

"What?"

"A gun. Are you carrying?"

"Yes, but-"

And before she has time to finish, he leans forward to run his hand up the outside of her right thigh extracting her weapon from the holster hidden in the folds of her cocktail dress. He swiftly unloads the clip dropping it into his pocket and depositing the gun at his waistline.

"Was that really necessary," she asks forcing herself to remain calm and not let on he has rattled her to the core.

"Well, it was enjoyable if nothing else. You've already declared your intention of arresting me at the conclusion of this tete-a-tete, but before that happens we need to agree on terms. I always find negotiations more beneficial when I hold all the cards or at the very least when the other party is unarmed," he says, leaning back against the column attempting to appear more relaxed than he actually felt.

"And just what exactly are we negotiating," she asks warily, knowing she is dealing with a master tactician and who knows where that could lead. Judging by his expression and her reaction to his touch that she is currently ignoring, it could lead nowhere good.

"An exchange of information, at the end of which there will be no arrest. You want to know how I know about your scar and I'll tell you, but not here. You're going to have to let me walk out of here to get that answer, Agent Keen."


	3. It's Been Called A Milonga

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading!

Let him walk out of there? He cannot be serious, but looking at Reddington's nonchalant pose as he leans against the column tells her otherwise. Not to mention the fact he is in current possession of her gun, and Liz knows the time has come to pick her battles. She can concentrate on the war later.

"If I let you go, what assurance do I have that you won't simply flee the country?"

He straightens then to a more serious stance, looking at her for some time before responding.

"I give you my word-"

"Your word as a criminal?" she asks disbelievingly.

"No, Elizabeth. I give you my word as your father's friend."

There it is, the confirmation of the idea that has been forming. He knew her father. It's the most logical reason for his knowledge of her nickname and the scar at her wrist. Her normal, happy childhood in Nebraska notwithstanding, there are mysteries that remain. Things her father would not speak of. Things beyond the petty crimes that were a part of his younger life before he returned home to the midwest to raise his daughter. The girl he adopted, and the one he kept secrets from.

He had asked her when she came to him for answers to trust him, that some things must remain in the past. She was angry, had rebelled a little as all teenagers do, but in the end she accepted it. Accepted his word because she loved him, and he had raised her well. Sam Milhoan took his secrets to the grave, and until this moment Liz had been prepared to live with that.

But now she knows there is no going back from this. She wants to, needs to know the truth and if it means breaking her oath then so be it.

"You say you were my father's friend, but he never mentioned you. How much do you know about what happened? Whatever it was that brought me to Sam?

The thought of lying to her never enters his mind. It would save them both so much grief to make up a story, but he can't do it. If she wants to know the truth, he will tell it.

"I know everything."

There is no hesitation as she replies, "Alright, you have a deal."

Red exhales a sigh of relief, thankful for the reprieve. He would never harm her, but he also has no intention of being taken into custody, and now they can go their separate ways for the time being. Time that he will need to gather his thoughts and plan his next move. Time and a little distance from her to clear his head and hopefully get his pulse back under control.

"But there is just one thing," she says.

_Oh boy, I knew that was too easy._

"I want to know why you are here tonight. You can't possibly be here for the auction, so what is it? Was it to meet with someone? A defense intelligence officer perhaps?"

He thinks about not answering, but she will eventually put two and two together. She is smart as hell without a doubt, and he needs to tread lightly. Besides, there is still information he needs from her.

"Although I'm offended at your assumption I wouldn't be here to donate to a worthy cause, I was in fact here to meet with the individual you appear to be surveilling."

This elicits a roll of those beautiful eyes before she continues, "Did the meeting take place?"

"That is two things I'm afraid, so now it's time you answer something for me. Did you know I would be here tonight?"

How she would love to tell him _yes_ just to wipe that smug expression off his face, but what is the point. She has the feeling he would know she was lying.

"No, I didn't know you would be here. You just picked the wrong woman to flirt with I'm afraid," she says, and is rewarded with a laugh that brings the flutter back to her stomach.

"Oh but I must disagree, Elizabeth. Seems an excellent choice to me,"

He's surprised as she suddenly closes the distance between them leaning up to whisper in his ear, and just as before the feel of her pressed against him is distracting beyond all reason.

"One last thing, Reddington. Don't ever touch my gun without permission," and he hears the clip snap back in place and looks down to catch a glimpse of a gorgeous thigh as she deposits her weapon back in the holster.

_Well hell,_ he thinks knowing he is past the point of no return.

* * *

The crowd is starting to move about the ballroom once more as the auction has drawn to a close, and Red knows this inconspicuous hiding place won't be so for long. However much he may regret it, it is time to part ways.

"Do you have a team hiding in the bushes out front?"

"If you mean the two agents in a van up the block, then yes," she says trying to keep her exasperation at bay and also to keep from smiling. He really is too much.

Red lightly takes her arm, steering them out into the crowd and toward an emergency exit at the back of a room.

"Hey, where are you taking me," she asks, thinking this was not part of the deal.

"Just an alternate exit, Elizabeth. You've been out of reach for some time and your pals may have decided to join the party."

He makes eye contact with Dembe whose expression is positively comical at this point seeing the pair sneak out from behind the tree, and Red knows he's going to take some ribbing about this later, but for now it's time to move. He nods toward the door and Dembe begins walking to another exit to retrieve the car in order to meet at their prearranged location.

"Look, I think we can say goodnight here." She is not afraid, but the upper hand she had gained by retrieving her weapon has vanished, and she doesn't like being maneuvered.

"There are a few more things we need to discuss, but we can do that as we walk. I only ask for a few more minutes of your time," he says opening the emergency exit leading to a hallway.

Liz doesn't respond, but decides to follows him through the doorway interested to see how this plays out. Judging by his confident stride he knows exactly where to go, and after several turns comes to a stop in a deserted hallway.

"I know you want answers and I will tell you at the appropriate time, but first I need information. This is important and I'm asking you to trust me. Can you do that?"

He's searching her face and she feels pulled in by his intensity. Friend of Sam's or not, she has no idea why she should trust him. Perhaps there is no reason for it, but it is there just the same.

"What do you want to know?"

"Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary either at work or in your personal life? Anything at all?"

"No, there is nothing."

He reaches out and takes her left hand running his thumb over her ring finger. "I see you're not wearing a wedding ring. I need to know what happened there."

"Look, Reddington I don't see what that-"

"Elizabeth, there are reasons I'm asking these questions. Please."

She shifts somewhat uncomfortably under his steady gaze but continues, "We divorced last year. He accepted a teaching position in upstate New York and I haven't spoken to him since the final decree came through."

"Was there anything unusual in his behavior or in the breakup? Anything you can think of at all?"

"No, nothing. It was simply incompatibility. He was incompatible with not being able to control my life and I was incompatible with his level of boredom. It was a mistake and didn't last long. That's it, Reddington, that is all you need to know."

She is growing increasingly agitated and Red can hardly blame her, but he must know if her identity has been discovered. Is it possible their paths crossed only by chance all these years later? He can't wrap his mind around it.

"Yes, that will suffice for now. There are reasons for my inquiry and you will understand in time. I'm sorry, Elizabeth, for everything."

She wonders if he is speaking of the breakdown of her marriage or whatever it is he will eventually tell her. He is looking at her with what can only be described as kindness and she realizes he is still holding her hand but she doesn't pull away.

"Thank you."

At this he gives a slight nod of his head and says, "This is where I'll take my leave, but I promise we will continue this at a later date."

Liz still feels like she is being drawn in by his gaze. Feels like he must be looking right through her, and it is something she has never quite experienced.

"Don't let me down, Reddington. I want those answers as well as how you seem to know so much about my life. I'll be waiting." This is the moment when she could have changed her mind and arrested him, but finds she simply can't do it. She wonders if she would have been able to regardless of what he knows about her past and thinks she may not like the answer to that question. Not one little bit.

"I'll contact you, I give you my word. May I ask one thing before I go?"

"Yes, what is it?"

"Will you call me Raymond? Reddington seems so informal, and I don't want us to get started off on the wrong foot."

The smile is back, and he is rewarded with one last roll of her eyes as she finally pulls her hand away from his. At that moment he hears a voice at the other end of the hall and realizes immediately they're in trouble.

"I'll stick with Reddington if it's all the same to you old friend. You are a hard man to find, but it seems you're in possession of something I need."

As Red turns he instinctively pushes Elizabeth behind him and replies with all the calmness he can muster, "Wujing, fancy meeting you here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the purposes of this story, Liz's boring ex-husband is just what she says he is and nothing more. No need to even mention his name;)


	4. Teambuilding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thanks for the comments and kudos. Enjoy!

Inwardly Red is cursing himself for not hearing Wujing or his two cohort's approach. Doesn't bother to wonder at the reason for it as that reason is currently pressed close to his back as he shields her with his body. He had allowed himself to become distracted by her and by his need to gain information in order to protect her, all the while danger was closing in.

Outwardly, he appears as calm as ever aside from the small twitch under his left eye. He had been worried about this all day. The possibility that news of the transaction had reached beyond the two parties involved, as sometimes happens in his business, and there would be interference.

Red is not the least bit surprised the _interference_ is Wujing. Though their past dealings had always ended successfully, this time he knew they were after the same thing and negotiation highly unlikely. Red had outbid him for the intel and although Wujing wouldn't have known who had bested him, he had obviously managed to find out the location of the meeting.

All it took was a glimpse of him at the gala and Wujing had his answer. Red is cursing himself in three languages for not anticipating the danger when his opponent finally responds.

"There is no need to make this complicated, Reddington. I know you have it. Hand it over and no harm will come to you or your girlfriend."

He hears Lizzy's sharp intake of breath and briefly wonders if it's the threat to their lives or being called his girlfriend that brought about the response. _Ah well, a question for another time,_ he thinks.

"My friend, perhaps we can come to terms-"

Wujing signals his operatives who immediately go into a shooting stance. Liz, directly behind Red, instinctively closes her eyes, but feels his arms raise in a halting motion as he says, "No need for the theatrics, Wujing. Here it is."

He reaches into the inside breast pocket of his tux, pulls out a small flash drive and tosses it to Wujing.

Liz's first thought is _what the hell?_ and can't stop herself exclaiming, "What the hell? Reddington, you told me you were here for a meeting, not that an exchange had taken place. You lied to me."

She is practically hissing in his ear and Red is glad he can't see her face.

"I did no such thing. You asked if I was here to meet a certain individual and I responded in the affirmative. Now if you wanted to know if I had recently purchased access to your country's network of spy satellites, then you really should have asked."

That he has the nerve to sound offended is beyond Liz's comprehension at that moment and she is just about to let him have it when Wujing breaks in.

"Look at you two bickering like an old married couple. Who is she, Reddington? I'm quite intrigued."

"She's with me. That's all you need to know."

The steel that has entered Red's voice in unmistakable and Liz suddenly feels a calmness come over her. Knows they will make it through this, but she is damned if she is going to let that drive get away or let Wujing's men shoot them before she has a chance to throttle Reddington herself.

She begins a slow movement with her right hand to retrieve her weapon from the holster and her other hand takes hold of his waist for balance as she bends her knee into the back of his leg, hopefully conveying her intent. Wanting to distract from her movements even though she is hidden from view, she exclaims,"The hell I'm with you, Reddington, and I'll tell you another thing…"

Liz reaches the gun, flicks the safety off and passes it forward to Red's waiting hand and he shoots each of Wujing's men in their firing arms.

It happens in seconds. The men go down, each in agony as their weapons fall useless at their sides. Red charges ahead reaching Wujing and motioning him to the ground as he pats him down for a weapon. Liz is right behind to secure the scattered guns and turns to find Red grinning at her.

"Lizzy, I had a feeling we'd make a great team."

* * *

Within minutes all three men are secured and sitting in a row up against the wall. The two with bullet wounds are stable, nothing too life threatening, Liz assesses, knowing she will be calling for backup within minutes. But first to deal with Reddington...

"Our spy satellite network? Are you serious?"

"Perfectly serious, I assure you. I find things work much better in the world when we all know each other's secrets."

"Reddington, I swear to god-"

"Lizzy I can't tell you the last time I've had such an enjoyable evening, but I really must say goodnight," he says passing the gun back to her. "I'll just retrieve the flash drive and be on my way-"

But as he bends over Wujing, he suddenly finds himself yanked back by a furious looking Agent Keen.

"The hell you will. Do you think I'm letting you walk out of here with stolen defense intel?" she says, pushing him back until she is between him and the drive still in Wujing's pocket. He'll have to go through her to get it and by the look in his eye it seems he may just be giving it some thought, until she sees him shrug his shoulders and lean back against the wall.

"Fine, have it your way, even though I'd like to point out that the rights of the purchaser are seriously being trampled here."

She opens her mouth to respond and he knows he is pushing his luck far beyond what is safe, so admitting defeat he says, "As you wish, Lizzy, but if you'll permit me."

He looks around her to Wujing still sitting against the opposite wall and continues, "I'll make this brief. If you or your associates inform the FBI that I was here this evening or that I had any contact with Agent Keen, the information I possess will be delivered to the interested party by tomorrow. I'm sure you know of what I speak and understand my meaning."

Lizzy finds she is holding her breath as Reddington delivers the obvious threat and turns to see Wujing's nod of understanding. For all his charm she is reminded that he is in fact a dangerous criminal and whatever information he is referring to would no doubt do considerable harm to Wujing and his organization, and she marvels at his ability to strategize every outcome.

"I'll leave you to it then," he says, turning back to her, relaxed and smiling as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. All in all and not considering the large sum of money he is out, it really has been a most pleasant evening. She has surprised the hell out of him and the feeling is both refreshing and, he'll admit, thrilling.

Lizzy is looking at him with a somewhat dazed expression and he reaches out placing a finger under her chin to close her mouth. She really is beautiful and he can't help but be charmed by her speechlessness which vanishes as quickly as it came.

"Reddington, I'm not wrong to let you go am I?"

She asks it quietly, searching his features. Sees the kindness mixed in with all the sass, but now she is doubting their deal. Wonders if she will see him again and can't explain the sudden emptiness she feels. Tells herself she is being silly, but there is no use. The feeling won't leave and she needs to know.

His joking demeanor is gone and his eyes never leave hers as he responds, "You are not wrong, Elizabeth. Trust me for just a while longer."

And she does.

As Red turns the corner out of her view, he hears her say, "Wujing, you are suspected of having stolen United States defense intelligence on your person. You have the right to remain silent and I suspect you'll be exercising this right…."

Yes, she is one surprise after another and Red is still grinning when he slips into the Mercedes to find Dembe's questioning look waiting for him.


	5. Moody Reds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

The days that follow can only be described as horrible as far as Liz is concerned. What started as a simple surveillance op turned into a chance encounter with Number Four which led to a double shooting and the interception of stolen United States defense secrets. By the time Red was out of her sight and Lizzy was calling for backup and reading the three spies their rights, her head was spinning.

And it only went downhill from there.

Between the story she had to concoct regarding the events of the evening and Ressler's extremely long winded lecture about protocol and rule breaking, Liz began to feel somewhat agitated. She hated lying, really she did, but what choice was there? Okay, there's always a choice, but in this instance she told herself it was the only one she could possibly make. Reddington had information she needed and the agency was going to have to take a backseat for once.

Her story was a simple one. She saw a suspected brush pass, a possible transfer of exactly what, she did not know. With the throng of people at the gala it was difficult to tell, however, after following Wujing and his men into the hallway, a confrontation occurred and his men were shot. The lie grated on her nerves, but the stolen intelligence was recovered and evidence on the flash drive incriminated her original target so she supposed she'd just have to live with it. She was extremely thankful right then to work for a classified task force as there would be no accolades for her supposed singlehanded takedown of an international spy and his two operatives.

Annoyed though Liz was as the days went on, she was secretly amused as Ressler continued in his failed attempts to interrogate the silent Wujing. The shooting victims were quickly patched up and returned to the Post Office, but remained just as mute as their boss. Liz had to admit it was the only bright spot of her week for some reason.

"Keen, they won't talk, not a single word. No reaction to an offer of a deal. I've never seen anything like is."

Liz hides her smile and thinks _Poor Donald, you've never seen anything like Raymond Reddington._ She marvels at his power over these men that were now well beyond his reach, but whatever his threat involved to gain their silence apparently worked even in a blacksite holding facility. That she secretly admires this when she absolutely knows she shouldn't only annoys her further.

Gradually, by midweek, things have settled down and she begins working the task force's other open cases.

However, there is one change in Liz's routine.

She no longer looks at the wanted poster in the number four position. Forces her eyes in another direction whenever she passes the Most Wanted display and tells herself it's to prevent anyone from catching on. Afraid she will give something away.

Until she can no longer help it, because this was the way she had started everyday at Quantico and now at the Post Office. With a glance at his face, that both fascinated and drew her in like a magnet. She's never been able to explain it, but why should she? It has been her secret ritual until he decided to chat her up at a gala. Still, days later, she cannot fathom how it could be so.

A week later and no word from Reddington. He had asked her to trust him, but each day her mood darkens. Each day she is more distracted, has difficulty concentrating on the work before her as the unsettled feeling deep inside grows. She tells herself it has nothing whatsoever to do with Raymond Reddington and she knows with certainty it is all a lie.

Days go by and still nothing. Liz passes the poster and positively glowers at it now. Wants to rip that smug expression off the wall and shred it into a thousand pieces, but what Cooper or the other members of the team would say to that she doesn't like to imagine.

By Friday, almost two weeks to the day after Reddington sailed out of her life, Liz has had it. She thinks if she can only get through the day then perhaps over the weekend she can gain some perspective and get her emotions under control. His last words to her repeat over and over in her mind like a broken record. _Trust me for just a while longer,_ and as she passes the poster, she glances his way and says, "Oh, shut the hell up!"

"Liz, what…?"

"Aram, oh no, I didn't mean you. I meant him," she says distractedly and heads to her office to start the day, leaving Aram standing in the deserted corridor as the Most Wanted look on.

By six o'clock, when she finally lets herself into her townhouse, Liz feels ready to collapse and is planning on doing just that as soon as possible.

The first thing she sees when she enters the living room is the fedora on the coffee table. The next thing she hears is, "Hello Lizzy, I'm betting by now you've been wondering if you were wrong to trust me. The answer is no."

* * *

Liz has a fleeting moment of thankfulness that she managed not to scream as she whips around to find Reddington sitting in her armchair, quite composed and flipping through a magazine. She stifles the urge to hurl a grocery bag at him and heads straight to the kitchen without saying a word.

_Well, that wasn't as bad as…._ Red doesn't finish the thought before he hears rather loudly from the next room, "Reddington, get in here!"

_Oh dear._

He attempts to wipe the smile off his face before she sees it or heaven help him. In her state he's likely to come to some considerable harm, but how he's missed her. Really missed her and the loud banging as she slams the groceries away is music to his ears.

Thinking perhaps some distance would be the safer course, Red opts for the dining table which is still in view but might give him time to duck if anything should come flying his way.

She doesn't acknowledge his presence and continues to put things away with a slam here and a bang there.

"Dont…"

Bang!

"you…"

Bang!

"knock?"

Bang!

Red is honestly scared for his life at this point and honestly thinks she's the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. So much passion inside her. So much fire….

Fire. The reason he is here and it's time he got on with it. Time to tell her so that his obligation will end, and he can walk out of her life with a clear conscience. She deserves to know, he supposes, even as he almost wishes she had never caught his eye. Never intrigued him, prompting his approach. Almost wishes he could turn back time so that she would never have to hear what he came here to say. Almost.

"Lizzy, I-"

"Thirteen days, Reddington! Thirteen days with no word, while I've waited and wondered and had to deal with everything at work and the lies I had to tell. Well that may be normal for you but it isn't for me and it's been horrible."

He sees her slump against the counter finally running out of steam as all the fight leaves her as quickly as it came. Hoping it is now safe, Red approaches as she stands at the counter with her head bowed and eyes closed. All of this is his fault and he knows it. Knew everything would fall on her shoulders when he sprinted out of sight leaving her to deal with it alone. Tells himself there was no other way, but seeing her in this state causes an ache in his chest he's not used to feeling.

Liz thinks she could melt through the floor right then and can't even bring herself to look at him as he approaches. Hates the tears that are forming and the feeling that she has lost control, not only of her emotions, but of everything. Suddenly everything in her life, past and present, seems linked to their chance encounter.

She feels his hand under her chin raising her head to look at him. That expression is back, the one she recognizes from the party. The kindness that surprised her, but something else is there now. Something she can't define. It's nice though, whatever it is.

"Elizabeth, I'm sorry. I've waited to contact you to make sure it was safe to do so, but I do apologize for the distress it has caused."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes," she says deciding the apology is enough for now and too exhausted to fight.

She is so quiet, he's not sure how to take it, but searching her face he sees the exhaustion written across it. Can't imagine what she's been through these last two weeks and wishes there was something he could do…

"Lizzy, have you eaten? What were you planning to cook tonight?"

"Cereal," she says and almost laughs at his expression.

Without a word, he pushes her away from the counter and with his hands on her shoulders, marches her to the table.

"Sit. You will not be eating cereal this evening if I have anything to say about it."

She sits.

He really is something, she thinks, watching him bustle around her kitchen, grumbling at her _appalling eating habits, for God's sake!_ It's been a very long time since someone took care of her. Well, perhaps that's because she is not one to allow it if she is being perfectly honest with herself. But seeing one of the world's most wanted criminals fussing over her _lack of fresh vegetables and canned peas are not a fresh vegetable don't even go there_ reaches a place deep in her heart.

The dinner is nothing fancy as her meager supplies won't allow for it. There is soup and bread and a few selections of cheese plus a very nice bottle of wine. _How can someone with only frozen waffles in their freezer have this many selections of cheese?_

He makes her smile for the first time in days, and she finds that she is hungry and eats everything he has prepared as he sits with her.

"I don't want to hear what you've come here to tell me. Not tonight," she says because she knows it is not the right time, and she doesn't want to ruin this moment that means something to her for whatever reason.

"I know, Lizzy. It'll keep. You can tell me about the last two weeks if you like."

She _does_ like apparently and tells him everything. Wujing's silence and Aram's _oh my, Liz you caught a spy ring!_ Her guilt about the untruths she told and her worry as the days stretched out without word from him. Perhaps it was the exhaustion talking, she doesn't know, but she tells him everything.

When he leaves her that night, he hands her a card as she hands him his fedora. A simple business card with no name, only a number for her to reach him.

"So that you won't worry. When you're ready, let me know," he says donning the fedora. As he reaches the door he looks back at her with a smile and continues, "I'll be waiting for your call."

With that he vanishes into the night and she is sure there won't be any further break-ins, pleasant though this one was.

Later as she is drifting off to sleep, Liz realizes it's not only her past and present linked to that chance encounter but she thinks her future might be as well.


	6. Payback is a ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the nice comments and kudos. They really mean a lot.
> 
> This was a fun chapter to write. Hope you enjoy!

Now it is Red's turn to wait, his turn to wonder when she will call, as the days pass without a word. Is she paying him back for his two week absence or simply gathering her strength to hear his tale? Perhaps a little of both and either way he can hardly blame her. Deep inside he has always known this day would come, no matter how he pushed it from his thoughts. It has always been there. He has carried it with him to every corner of the world through all the years that have slipped past. The knowledge that one day he would have to face those horrific events once more. His scarred body a daily reminder of that burden.

_Sam was right._ His old friend, wise enough to know that the past doesn't always stay buried as one might hope. Red thinks about the night he left, after the arrangements had been made and his body recovered enough for the journey. Plans were in place with safety measures and a way of contact only as a last resort.

As he readied his departure he embraced his friend hoping it would be the last time. That there would never be a need for his return and the girl would fade into anonymity in the plains of the midwest, for how much danger could reach her in Nebraska? _I'll never tell her Raymond, I promise you, but mark my words, the past has a way of kicking you in the ass, my friend._

Red smiles at the memory he hasn't allowed himself to contemplate in many years. Sam always had a way of speaking the absolute truth to him which is why he eventually trusted him with his life. And hers.

For a man not used to this feeling of limbo in which his next ten moves can't be planned out with precision, the week becomes an exercise in the virtues of patience. Dembe's raised eyebrow does nothing to help, nor his seeming tranquility as their stay lengthens. He had informed his friend of the events at the gala and _this is fate, Raymond_ was the simple reply. There were times, however, when Red would catch a curious expression that flashes across his face but Dembe never says a word.

_Fate._

Raymond Reddington had never believed in it. Bad luck, certainly. Good timing and the not so good, absolutely. His powers of persuasion and a little luck, without a doubt. But fate? No, he has never given it a second thought.

Until he attended a gala with the sole intent of a simple business transaction. It occurred within seconds and as he turned toward the door to make his exit, saw her standing there, eyes scanning the crowd.

_Fate?_

Red doesn't know what he believes anymore, except his well ordered world seems to be crumbling and has been since she linked her arm in his and wouldn't let him go.

So he remains until the call comes through because he has given her his word even though it would be so simple to get on his jet and never look back. _It will never work_ , he thinks. There is nowhere he could possibly run that he would find a moment's peace from her memory. How those lovely eyes had searched his own for answers that he couldn't possibly begin to know how to give her.

These thoughts play over and over in his mind as each day passes. Finds himself distracted as his mind wanders back to their chance encounter. How the lights played across her face, their instinctive movements together as she passed him her gun. Like a dance and more thrilling than the one they had shared earlier in the evening.

Yes, it seems he is completely distracted by Agent Elizabeth Keen and as he and Dembe arrive home late Sunday afternoon and enter the living room of the townhouse, he finds his mind wandering again to that night when he hears her say, "I know you've been waiting on my call, but I decided to drop in instead."

* * *

Liz hadn't intended to break in but had simply seized an opportunity. She thought knocking on his door would be enough of a surprise attack and a fitting payback for his own uninvited appearance in her home, however, after determining he wasn't there, she decided to do a little breaking and entering of her own.

The security system is good, both inside and outside the townhouse, but Liz is better and soon finds herself roaming the first floor. It is beautifully decorated and quite comfortable she thinks, but knows it's only a temporary safe house. Probably one of many scattered throughout the world.

It is too impersonal and she wonders what his actual home looks like or if he even has one. Judging by the stack of books near an armchair in the living room she'd guess there is one somewhere or a few that have a permanence to them. It must have a library, she guesses, and a cluttered one at that. Liz imagines him depositing new finds and taking old favorites as he comes and goes from his travels until the shelves are in complete disarray. _I bet he knows where everything is though._

She decides to wait for him in the armchair as it's the most comfortable spot to her and can picture him here in the leather chair with the reading lamp overhead. Picking up The Times crossword, she now knows how he likes to spend Sunday mornings. Number Four is one surprise after another as she looks at the unfinished puzzle and sees he has already answered _you had me at hello._ Will wonders never cease.

Liz is reading when she hears his entrance and sees that he has company. Not wanting to get herself shot as she expects uninvited guests are a rarity, she is quick to announce her presence. As expected the two men whirl around both instinctively reaching for their weapons, and just as quickly both relax seeing her sitting calmly in the armchair.

His expression is priceless and Liz knows with certainty she'll remember it as long as she lives. Complete speechless astonishment and she has never felt so good. She rises then and gives his arm a pat as she passes by to extend her hand to the other man.

"Hello, I'm Elizabeth."

"Dembe. You are very welcome here, Elizabeth," he says shaking her hand, only slightly less shocked than Red but able to find his voice quicker. Looking between Liz and Red he decides some privacy may be warranted and with an _I'll just be in the other room_ makes a hasty retreat to the other room.

Liz turns back to find Red in the same position as before, until he realizes she is quietly watching him and removes his hat dropping it on a side table.

"Elizabeth what….how….?"

He trails off and Liz realizes this really is a shocker and deciding to take pity she responds, "Relax, Reddington, you're perfectly safe. No one knows where you are except me, and I won't tell."

"How did you…?"

"Well I put a tracking chip in the band of your fedora as you were leaving the other night."

He is absolutely gobsmacked at this point and turns to look down at the fedora on the table like it is an old friend that has betrayed him.

"No, not that one, the olive green one. That's the one you were wearing the other…" she stops as he turns back to her with an expression of moral outrage and it takes all her willpower to keep it together.

"You tracked my fedora?"

"Yes and it led me right to you," she says all but laughing at him at this point.

"Lizzy, a man's fedora is a sacred thing. Besides, are you aware of just how many security features we have in this place? I can't begin to tell you."

"You don't need to tell me, I discovered them for myself and you're right, they are very good. I'm just better, Reddington." And with that she crosses to the couch and sits to wait him out.

The shock is slowly wearing off and he is looking at her in wonder. For a man who loves the surprising and challenging in life, he is fast learning there is nothing of the ordinary in Elizabeth Keen. She is in fact spectacular.

"Come sit by me."

_Well okay then_ and he joins her as requested and is suddenly nervous that this is the moment he will have to tell her. Suddenly feels his throat tightening and honestly has no idea where he will find the words. Where to begin to explain what he himself still can't understand.

Liz notices the nervousness in his posture and in the wringing of his hands. Whatever he has to tell her will be hard, but seeing his obvious agitation, she feels more sorry for him than herself. Not for the first time wonders if she really should go down this road but supposes the road met her instead.

Without thinking, she reaches out and stills his hands with her own. Doesn't move her hand away but leaves it resting on his and quietly says, "You don't have to tell me yet. I just want to know one thing first."

Red doesn't respond so she continues, "Will anything you say make me think less of my father?"

He meets her eyes then with ernest. "No, Lizzy, not at all. That I can promise you."

_This is enough,_ she thinks. Enough for now, suddenly not wanting to know more. Needing to take it slow, not only for her peace of mind and wellbeing, but for his as well. Something inside tells her whatever pain the story may cause her, it does not compare to his. She is certain the scar on her wrist and the look in his eyes are connected and perhaps the loss of his family is connected to the loss of hers. It must all relate to the one trauma that is only a flash of a memory if it can even be called that. The one that led her to an adopted father and a childhood home far away.

"I'm not sure when I'll be ready to hear it and I know you will have a hard time telling me. I'm sorry for that. Let's just leave it for now, shall we?"

Red really can't wrap his mind around it. Her kindness to him and her concern for Sam's memory. Placing these above her desire to know the mystery of her childhood. She really is more than he could ever have expected.

"As you wish, Lizzy."

She smiles at that and gives his hand a squeeze before rising to take her leave and he follows suits. He sees her halt several feet from the door and hesitate before turning to him once more.

"Raymond, I will be attending a conference this week in New York, until Wednesday that is, and well, I'm staying through the weekend and I thought if you happen to be there and had the time—" She produces a folded paper from her pocket handing it to him quickly before continuing, "So okay, call if you want to, but if not I'll talk to you when I return ."

With that she is gone, and Red slowly slips the paper with only her number written down into his breast pocket and returns to sit in his armchair. He thinks of her sudden nervousness and the sound of his name on her lips. The way her hand felt resting on his own as she calmed his nervousness. He thinks of it all and the next time he comes to himself it is completely dark outside. Glancing over at the table he sees that she has completed his crossword and knows he is a lost man.

_What the hell are you doing, Reddington?_

"Dembe, call Edward. I'm going to New York!"


	7. On The Town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't say enough how appreciative I am for your comments and kudos. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this one! It's time for a New York state of mind...

_What the hell are you doing Liz?_

With little to distract herself on the short flight from D.C. to New York, Liz comes to a realization. She has, in fact, invited the Most Wanted's number four to New York to meet her. For what, she can hardly imagine. Furthermore she can not possibly say it was a spur-of-the-moment decision when she jotted her number down at home! It was a premeditated invitation and she may as well admit it.

In truth though, she actually does want to wait to hear about her past and feels a need to build up her defenses at the moment. She's gone all these years without knowing and if taking it in stages will help both her and Raymond, then so be it. It would have been so simple to tell him to go and she'd make contact with the number he provided, but there is just one problem. Deep down she doesn't want him to leave, not yet anyway. It's as simple as that.

For whatever reason the desire to know him better is what prompted the invitation. To talk without the obligation of his story or confession or whatever it will turn out to be, heavy in the air between them. There is also an attraction there, she must admit. Something that drew her eyes to his face everyday in that years old grainy photograph. Something that made her notice him in the crowded ballroom. And it's mutual without a doubt. He may be an outrageous flirt, but what made him notice her and seek her out? The attraction was there before any knowledge of a shared history, and the two have become very different and very separate issues in Liz's mind.

She can't seem to shake the need to understand the man beyond the wanted poster. His crimes are well known and there is no excusing them, but why does she sense that he is essentially a decent man? Number four certainly, but there is something more than that. Giving his word on his friendship with Sam. The way he instinctively pushed her behind his body to shield her. Shooting Wujing's men in the arm instead of killing them outright. In truth, she would have gone for the kill shot, she will freely admit, but he showed restraint. There is something about it, and she is almost certain he wanted to keep their meeting as a good memory and one not marred by more violence than was necessary.

He's been fooling everyone all these years with that air he wears. The criminal, the tactician, the smartest in the room. From naval intelligence to Number Four, there is a world of unanswered questions in between and Liz needs to know what happened to prompt him leaving his family and the eventual crimes that put his face on that poster and why she's so willing to look beyond it.

She opens her briefcase and glances in at Reddington's file, the standard FBI one and another she was able to copy without being traced back to her. She hasn't read them, but put them in at the last minute thinking perhaps it's time to learn what she can before she asks him to do what will be so painful for him.

* * *

After arriving at her hotel, Liz spends a quiet afternoon strolling around her favorite neighborhood and has an early dinner. She is just getting settled in bed when her phone buzzes and her heart immediately jumps into her throat. Knows it's him before seeing the _Unknown Caller_ displayed and takes a deep, steadying breath before answering.

"Hello Reddington."

"Lizzy, you wound me. We're back on a last name basis so quickly? Perhaps by week's end it will be _Raymond_ once more."

The tone in his voice is unmistakable, and Liz has a burst of nervous energy and gets up to look out the window.

"So I take it you're in town?"

"I am indeed and would love nothing more than to see you tomorrow evening if that's agreeable. Shall I meet you at your hotel around six?"

 _Raymond Reddington just asked me on a...date. For god's sake you invited him to New York for just that reason!_ It's as if the sound of his voice is carrying her away and she wonders if she allowed it, where on earth she'd end up.

"Lizzy?"

"Yes I'm here, and tomorrow evening is perfect. I'll meet you in the hotel bar."

It's only after she hangs up that Liz realizes she didn't tell him where she is staying and he didn't ask. _Five steps ahead as usual,_ she thinks with a shake of her head. Later, before turning out the light, she adds his number in her contacts as _A. Dyle and_ falls asleep with a smile on her face.

* * *

Liz rests better than she could have hoped and the conference is interesting and informative. She tries not to dwell on the irony that as she sits in a crowded auditorium full of other law enforcement agents, she is trying to concentrate on the lecture and not on her date with a notorious criminal.

The profiler in her could have a field day, but Liz isn't listening to her just yet and she feels a thrill of excitement as she enters the hotel bar that evening.

He's already there and has been for well over half an hour. What with the evening traffic and you can never tell how long it will take to get across Manhattan, but the truth is he couldn't wait. Would have come hours ago if not for looking like a fool in….

A check of his watch and a glance toward the door and she's there. Beautiful in a black dress, but as she approaches he sees it is deep blue as midnight and she takes his breath away. He thinks he will probably never remember the exact details, just something flowy and with enough bare skin to keep him distracted, but the blue of her eyes that night, in that dress, he will remember for the rest of his days.

"You look lovely."

"So do you, Raymond," she says with a smile and really does think he looks lovely but also handsome and distinguished in his three-piece suit. So unlike anyone, any man she has ever known, that has nothing whatsoever to do with his number four status.

"Ah, there it is. I thought I'd have my work cut out for me to get back to _Raymond."_

"Don't start," she says arching a brow at him.

He laughs and picks his fedora off the bar, dropping a few bills to pay for his drink.

Liz reaches a hand out toward the hat and says with a smile, thinking of the tracking chip, "Not the olive green I see."

"Now don't you start."

They're relaxed and smiling as they leave the hotel and more than a few eyes glance their way thinking what a striking pair they make.

* * *

There is a car and driver waiting outside, but the drive is short as he takes her to a restaurant only a few blocks from her hotel. It is small and intimate and not too crowded for a Tuesday night. Liz realizes he's been there before as the staff knows him referring to him as _Mr. Robie._

She can't stop herself from asking, "Mr. Robie, huh?"

"John Robie, pleasure to meet you," he replies without missing a beat.

" _To Catch A Thief?_ Honestly, the irony is overwhelming," she says, laughing at his mock indignation.

"Lizzy, just to be clear, dragging someone behind a potted tree is not catching them."

He's at once disconcerted she is able to guess his aliases so quickly and very pleased she has a love for the classics as he does. If they were worried about a lack of conversation or awkwardness there is no need. From that moment on they move easily from one topic to another as the wine flows and they share an excellent dinner.

The early fall night is still warm enough to be comfortable and they decide to walk the few blocks back the hotel. Red removes his jacket on the way and Liz thinks it would be wonderful to see him in a completely casual setting, when the persona is nowhere to be found.

It's a short walk and Liz sees Red's car that he had sent ahead waiting for him. She has another full day of lectures to attend beginning early the next morning, but the only thing on her mind is not wanting the evening to end. With that thought comes the anxiety she has managed to push away, as well as a feeling inside she can't explain. Wanting something and not understanding why when every reason would say no.

They are just reaching his car as she says, "Raymond, I want to see you again, I do, but this is a bad idea. All of this."

There it is, the unspoken thing between them that they've managed to ignore all evening. He stands with his hands in his pockets, his jacket looped through an arm, anything to keep from reaching out and touching her. Waiting for her signal and letting her move the boundary marker because he so desperately doesn't want to hurt her.

"I would like nothing better than to see you again but you are right. This is not a good idea. Not for you and definitely not for your career if our…association was discovered. Tell me to go, Lizzy, and I'll go. Just say the word."

Red sees her open her mouth to respond but stops herself and his heart is racing. Why can't he run when every instinct is telling him to, for her sake and perhaps also for his own? He's always listened to it and it has served him well all these years except this time. Except for her. She draws him in like a magnet, unlike any woman he has ever known.

He's watching her, waiting for her to tell him this situation they've found themselves in is impossible, and he's ready to reassure her he understands completely when she finally responds.

"Pick me up tomorrow, same time and dress casual," she says, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek and turns to walk into her hotel.

It is a shell-shocked Raymond Reddington in the car on the ride home with the feel of her kiss still fresh on his skin, and he really is amazed at the irony of _John Robie_ in _To Catch a Thief._

* * *

Casual for Raymond is apparently a blazer and shirt with a few buttons undone, and Liz thinks _well we'll have to work on that,_ but it doesn't stop the whispered _damn_ when he enters the hotel lobby.

He spots her walking toward him and she is beautiful in a light summer dress and he gives a silent thanks to the unseasonably warm weather.

When he asks what's on the agenda, she tells him there isn't one so they set out, strolling through the surrounding neighborhoods as evening fades into night. Stopping occasionally to look in a store window but mostly content to continue their leisurely pace. Dinner is pizza that they eat standing at the counter with a few other locals and she thinks _No wonder they've never caught up to him. He fits in anywhere._

They pass a little coffee house and drop in, neither wanting to end the evening early. There's a little table in the corner and they find themselves sitting close, talking as easily as the previous night, skirting any subject that neither want to deal with just yet. The criminal and the FBI agent do not figure in. For now and in this city they are simply Raymond and Elizabeth.

On the walk back to her hotel, she takes his hand and is still holding it as they reach the lobby doors. It's not hard for them to imagine that they are just any other couple sharing a first or second date. Still a little shy and everything new but perhaps building toward…..something.

But as the hotel comes into view, the unsettled feeling returns when the moment of separation is near and a decision will need to be made. To continue down this path they're on or not.

"I still don't know what we're doing here Raymond, and I still think it's a bad idea," she says as they stop near the entrance.

"It is, most definitely, and I'll go if you want. All you have to do is tell me, but can you answer one question," and not waiting for a response he continues, "Why did you ask me here?"

He waits as she studies him, contemplating his question until she finally answers, "I'm trying to figure you out."

"And have you succeeded?"

He is searching her face. Searching for a sign from her that this, whatever this is, should stop. Wanting anything in the world but to hurt her, but then she smiles and all is well. At least for now and for a man like Raymond Reddington it is the _for nows_ that matter most.

"Not even close, I'm afraid. What time are you picking me up tomorrow?"

* * *

By mid-morning Red is behind the wheel and driving them out of the city to enjoy the last of the warm weather before fall really sets in.

"So who are you today," she asks as he navigates the car northward without a word about where they are going.

"Excuse me?"

"Alias-wise? Who are you?"

"Lizzy, I'm simply-"

"Tell me what name is on your fake driver's license. Come on."

"If you must know, I'm David Huxley. Pleased to make your acquaintance," he says with a smirk. _See if you can guess-_

"Oh, so you're driving me to Connecticut I see," she says, immediately recognizing the _Bringing Up Baby_ character. He must have a thousand identities to choose from, but he probably came across this one in his stack of IDs and chose it for the occasion.

"Lizzy, no one likes a show-off."

He says it with just enough indignation to be believable but truthfully he can't get enough of her. Her quick wit and intelligence challenge him at every turn and he is finding that in all the places he has been and all the people he has met, there has never been anyone like her.

She laughs at his last statement thinking _he can't be serious_ before continuing,"There's going to be a lot of traffic, you know."

"We're going against the flow and we'll be coming back late. There is nothing like driving back into the city at night. Plus we have jazz for the ride and my charming stories for entertainment."

"Now who's showing off," she says with a roll of her eyes that he knows is there even with his own on the road ahead.

She never gives the traffic another thought as they head north along the coast without a destination in mind, wanting to see how far they get before the need to turn back. By late afternoon, Lizzy is convinced she has learned more about this man beside her in one day than all the classified files could ever tell her. He is a lover of words as he tells her one fantastic tale after another. He is a lover of music and she fills the car with his favorite jazz selections and her favorites from the old standards. He is kind as she watches him leave an extra large tip for their overworked waitress. Catching her smile he shrugs, a little embarrassed, saying _she_ _has a hard job._

Mostly Lizzy discovers his deep love for the sea, something that surprises her even with his naval history. She finds his enthusiasm for every type of boat imaginable and his stories of sailing alone across vast expanses a little painful to hear. Endearing without a doubt, but painful. He was once just a boy that loved the ocean and joined the navy to spend his life on the water, but his incredible intellect, gift of languages and uncanny ability to strategize steered him into naval intelligence. Lizzy doesn't have the full story yet, but she knows had he stayed a simple sailor he'd have no doubt risen to full Admiral and number four would never have been.

They're standing on a pier in some little town as that thought crosses her mind. They haven't spoken in a while, both gazing at the water and listening to the waves break beneath them as the afternoon fades away. She glances at his profile and wonders if he thinks of the _what_ _ifs_ of those long ago events. Looking at him now, it's not hard imagining him on the bridge of a great ship rather than the criminal he became, and after this short time with him she is certain he didn't choose that road. It met him along the way just as one met her and put her in his sight the night of the gala. There's no doubt he travels it freely now, even reveling in his notoriety, but believing he stayed on that path as a mode of survival lessens her judgment of him.

"Raymond."

"Hmmm."

"I want you to kiss me even though it's a bad idea."

She says it quietly and he almost thinks he must have misinterpreted her words against the sound of the waves, but the look on her face tells him differently.

Sensing he won't allow himself to make the first move, she reaches for him, drawing him closer to her. Can feel his heart beating fast as she places her hands there and smiles knowing it is for her.

"I've thought of little else all day but kissing you," he says, his voice a low rumble. Reaching his hands out he brings her in closer still and repeats what has become a little ritual, "But I agree it's a bad idea. Could lead to a dangerous idea if we're not careful, Lizzy."

She rises up, kissing him at the corner of his mouth. "Very dangerous," she whispers moving to the other side.

"You should tell me to go," he murmurs as his last defenses fall. His last plea to stop them crossing a line they won't come back from, but he's lost in her. Lost in the feel of her.

 _Don't go_ is her answer as she moves her hands from his heart to slide them around his neck to initiate the kiss and immediately feels him let go and relax into it. Tentative at first but quickly more than either had imagined. With the wind whipping around them and the sound of the waves loud in their ears, they are mindless to everything except each other and the current running between them.

At last they break apart, coming up for air and Lizzy says, "That was a fantastic bad idea."

"I'm full of bad ideas. Just you wait."

Both are quiet on the drive back, each lost in thought. Most regarding some very passionate kissing, but other things as well. He was right of course, the lights of the city really are lovely as they get closer and closer and Liz can't believe she was ever concerned about the traffic. Thinks she would like nothing better than to spend her days getting lost with him with no destination in mind.

She gives him a quick but mind-numbing kiss as he drops her at the hotel and before getting out asks, "What's the plan for tomorrow?"

"Let me surprise you. You'll love it even though it's slightly illegal."

"Slightly illegal? Raymond, somehow I'm not the least surprised."


	8. Bad Idea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again thanks for the support for this little story. It means the world to me. 
> 
> Enjoy!

"Raymond, by _illegal_ you don't actually-"

"I mean illegal as in against the laws of the state of New York, Lizzy," he says matter-of-factly as if he's planning to take her to the theater after dinner. They've already eaten and are sitting close, holding hands across the table. Another out of the way restaurant with a booth toward the back affording them privacy.

He watches her as she worries her bottom lip trying to decide if he is really serious before continuing, "Here's your chance to say no. I'll understand completely."

A challenge has been issued as he sits there with a little smile at the corners of his mouth. Liz can't fathom what on earth he could have in mind, but saying _no_ hardly seems an option. She does have her pride after all.

"Okay I'm game, but we're not knocking over a bank are we? I'm supposed to be on the right side of the law, remember?"

He laughs at that saying, "Lizzy, as much as I'm intrigued by the Bonnie and Clyde image I assure you in the scheme of things what I have in mind is quite mild."

Liz swears in that moment he could almost talk her into a bank heist as charming as he is. The devil in disguise in his gray three-piece suit and silver and burgundy tie that alone costs more than her entire outfit. He took her breath away when she saw him earlier in the evening, and that feeling of being on the brink of a _dangerous_ _idea_ has been with her ever since.

"Well, if we're not Bonnie and Clyde then tell me who you are this evening?"

"Now Lizzy, you know there's little meaning in an alias. In fact-"

"Cut the nonsense. I know you choose these names for a reason so let's have it."

"Since you ask so politely, it's Brian Cameron. Charmed, I'm sure," he says and watches as she concentrates, trying to place the name and finally he's stumped her!

"Dammit, Raymond," she says admitting defeat and is rewarded with his look of triumph.

He glances above them to the little light on the wall and says, "Is the _Gaslight_ flickering or…."

"I see you're enjoying yourself immensely. I'm assuming you're referring to the brilliant detective that figured it all out and caught the worthless husband?"

"Of course."

Raymond loves this game they play. He has known passion in past relationships but rarely did it extend beyond the physical. Here with Elizabeth, however, there is so much more. The physical attraction is already there as evidenced by his reaction to that red dress clinging so seductively and currently distracting him beyond all reason. The one that she _just picked up this morning_ and he knows she bought it with him in mind. He thinks of their kiss by the ocean and feels that quickening in his pulse. However, it is also the spark between their minds and their sharp intellect he also finds so thrilling. How they share this love of the classics. How they surprisingly have many things in common, but still she challenges him at every turn.

"Well Mr. Cameron, shall we go break the law?"

* * *

"Are we knocking over an electronics store?"

"Lizzy, what is this fascination with knocking things over? I think there is a bit of the gangster in you," he says chuckling as he leads them into a small storefront. Once inside they move straight to a door at the rear which is immediately opened by a man standing guard. _Welcome back, Mr. Cameron_ and suddenly they've entered another world.

Lizzy can't believe her eyes. They have stepped through a door into the 1920s as her eyes take in the mahogany bar and the opulent decor beyond. It is beautiful, all in jewel tones, and seems to go on forever. The room they have entered is apparently for sharing a drink or a cigar, but beyond that she sees another and catches a glimpse of couples dancing and it's jazz of course. What else could it be? A door opens just then to her right and she spies a roulette table. Ah yes, now she knows why this establishment is illegal.

"Raymond, you've brought me to a speakeasy," she whispers, still in awe of the bygone era they have entered.

"I have indeed, Lizzy. Of course they've traded the alcohol for the gaming but the vibe remains the same."

Linking her arm through his she says, "Thank you for this." And she means it. Illegal though it is, it is also beautiful as she sees the couples and small groups of friends sharing a drink or dancing. It's perfect.

Raymond is pleased at her reaction. More than pleased. It is one of his favorite secret spots and he has never brought a woman here. Has always dropped in for a cigar or when he felt like losing a little money at the tables, but always alone.

"You're welcome. I'm glad to have you to share it with," and clearing his throat, he gestures toward the gaming room. "How about we start in there. I'm feeling particularly lucky tonight."

"Smooth, Reddington, very subtle," she says with that roll of her eyes he loves to elicit.

It seems they are lucky as a few hours later they emerge with a tidy little sum. Raymond couldn't take his eyes off her. The way she becomes deadly serious before placing a bet or how she studies her opponents' faces for a sign of their tell. She seems to know when it's time to quit and not push their luck as she leans into him to whisper, _Ask me to dance, Raymond, and I might say yes._ God, the way she makes his pulse race.

They follow the jazz and spend the rest of the evening there. Sometimes watching the musicians hone their craft, sometimes joining the other couples on the small dance floor. This is nothing like their first dance at the gala, however. This is slow and steady, no distraction, focused only on the other. They can feel themselves moving toward something, the _dangerous_ _idea_ that doesn't seem as dangerous there with the jazz and that current moving between them again. It seems natural and right as if it were inevitable that it would be so.

_Ask me to go home with you, Raymond, and I might say yes._

The feel of her lips close to his ear as she whispers the words sends a rush of heat throughout his body. God, she is killing him and he wonders how he will ever do without her after this. He needs to be reasonable and rational if his brain will allow. The thought of hurting her is unbearable and he doesn't see how either could come out of this unscathed.

He stops the dance and holding her hand, walks to the bar and orders them a drink. Feels the need to stop and think before they get carried away. Because there are things she doesn't know.

They sit for a time at the bar as she watches him and can practically hear the thoughts running through his head. Her feet are resting on his barstool between his legs keeping him facing her which is her plan. He's fiddling with his glass and not looking at her so she scoots in a bit close and that gets his attention as she sees him swallow. It makes her feel a little bold, this power she has over him as she places her hand on his thigh.

"You're retreating from me. Tell me what it is."

Finally, he turns to look at her and that power play is completely mutual. She has never reacted to anyone the way she does with him.

"We need to be careful here, Elizabeth. You don't know anything about me or what happened."

"I know enough to know this is what I want."

But there is something else in his expression, something beyond the worry that she may get hurt along the way. Something very close to pain.

She reaches for his hand still twirling his drink glass and links her fingers with his. "Raymond, tell me what it is."

"You still don't know," and turning her wrist over to where the scar is, brings it to his lips. "We share the same scars," he whispers kissing the broken place as if it were something holy.

The feel of his lips on her skin sends a charge through her body but his words….

"I don't under-"

Lizzy stops because suddenly she does understand. Her earliest memories from her childhood are of Sam, save one. If not for her scar she would have believed it was a nightmare that eventually faded away as she grew older. A flash of an image. A wall of flame, choking heat and smoke. The screaming of a child followed by darkness, then freezing air burning into her lungs. The only information Sam would give her regarding her history is the fire. Her parents were lost and she was saved. He repeated it like a mantra all her life. _You were saved for a reason, Lizzy, don't ever forget it._

And now she knows how.

Without any details, she knows Raymond is the one that saved her and brought her to Sam. All that he has done since is rooted in that night, she is sure of it. It is the only explanation for her father's secrecy that never wavered even on his deathbed. This is another step toward learning of all the events of that night, but for this night it is enough. It certainly doesn't lessen what she feels for him. If anything the bond is tighter now.

He is still holding her hand as his thumb lightly strokes back and forth over her wrist, but his eyes never leave her face. Watches as confusion gives way to understanding followed by something else he can't define. She reaches her other hand out to his cheek and repeats her earlier words.

_Ask me to go home with you, Raymond._

* * *

They are quiet during the ride to his apartment. There is a driver tonight and as soon as Raymond sits beside her she reaches across him, laying her head on his chest. Wanting to keep him close and trying to convey all that she feels inside but not having the words.

Having half expected her to ask him to bring her back to the hotel, he's a little in shock. In truth, has been in shock since they met. She came along and knocked his world off its axis and Red feels the loss of control deeply, but it's not unpleasant. With his arm around her and her body pressed close to his, it is the exact opposite of unpleasant.

They arrive at his building and it is what she thought it would be. Classically beautiful and pre-war but understated. Just where she would picture him on his visits to the city. He greets the doorman like an old friend who responds with _Have a good evening, Mr. Charles._

"Mr. Charles?" she asks as they step into the elevator, playing along with the game.

"Nicholas Charles. The pleasure is indeed all mine, madam," he says, giving her hand a kiss.

"Do you prefer Nick or Nicky," she asks with a laugh, thinking _The Thin Man_ suits him perfectly in that fedora and suit. _He really is like a movie star and larger than life._ There is no need in Liz telling herself not to get carried away because it is much too late.

"Lizzy, I'll have you know-"

But he never finishes as she throws her arms around his neck, kissing him senseless. He gives up the argument as she pushes him back against the wall and as her leg sneaks around his own, decides to surrender completely.

All too soon they've reached the penthouse and break apart completely out of breath.

"What was that for?"

"For liking old movies and taking me to a speakeasy and looking at me like you're doing right now," she answers with complete honesty because he has surprised her everyday since they met and wants him to know it.

As they enter his apartment, Liz knows immediately this is more than a safehouse, but is one of his more permanent residences. She feels like it is another window into his soul and walks ahead to catch a glimpse of this man without the mystery and armor. From his collection of books in the cluttered shelves that are just as she imagined to the art housed there, she realizes there are a thousand depths to him that would take a lifetime to discover. He has a beautiful eye she realizes as she takes a moment to look at a few pieces, until she sees a small painting propped on a side table against yet another stack of books.

The one from the auction of a rocky shoreline after a storm. The one that caught her eye when Raymond decided to approach her and the one she supposes has a little something to do with how they find themselves here tonight.

She turns and sees him looking at her and he says quietly, "I was waiting for the right time to give it to you, but I knew that night that you should have it."

"But how? You were with me every second after that."

"I signaled to Dembe and he purchased it."

"Raymond, let me get this straight. You mean between the espionage, the flirting and getting dragged behind a tree, you managed to purchase this painting for me because I liked it?"

"Well I thought-"

Once again she doesn't let him finish as she crosses the room to take his face in her hands. Wanting to look in his eyes when she says, "Thank you."

"Lizzy, it's only a small gift," he says, shifting somewhat under her steady gaze but she still has her hands pressed to his face. Needing him to hear and understand her next words.

"No, not just for the painting. For this week and for everything you haven't told me yet. I know it was you that brought me out of the fire, you don't have to say it. Whatever happens you must know I'm so glad you came to speak to me the night of the auction. More than you will ever know."

Passion is one thing, but her tenderness is what destroys him. That with every barrier that comes down she moves closer instead of leaving and putting a stop to this madness.

"I've never wanted anything more, but this is a bad idea," he says reaching up to take her hands in his own, bringing them down to hold against his chest.

"Then tell me to go, you only have to say the word," she replies, using his own words against him.

But he can't. Simply cannot find the words to turn from this one pure thing that has found its way into his life. That will never let him go.

"I'm waiting, Raymond," as she lets go of his hands and reaches up to remove his jacket, placing it on the sofa behind her.

She turns back but still he does not respond as she begins to unbutton his vest which finds its way on top of his jacket. His shallow breathing the only sound, the only sign that her actions are having an effect.

"If you're not going to tell me to go then you're going to have to help a little," she says softly, kissing the side of his neck and feeling the vibration in her lips from the chuckle that brings.

He circles his arms around her, pulling her into him, as he finally speaks the words she has needed to hear. _Don't go._ Finally kisses her and she feels his reserves break as he deepens the kiss and all rational thought is lost.

They break apart, breathless but wanting more, wanting to drown in each other and with her whispered _Raymond, where the hell is your bedroom_ he takes her hand and leads the way. They are immediately back in each other's arms as they reach the room, but as her hands begin unbuttoning his shirt, she feels him go still except for the rapid movement of his chest.

"You will not like what you see." His voice is low but matter of fact.

The scars they share. This is what he must have meant and the need to see and feel rises in an instant. _Show me,_ and as the shirt falls away there is nothing, not a mark on his chest. Until she realizes….

And moving around him she sees his back and the scars so similar to the one on her wrist, but he is the one that took the brunt of the fire's fury. For him to have suffered so much while she emerged with only the small injury, he must have sheltered her as the fire raged overhead.

He is waiting for a response but there is none and he can hardly blame her. The years have softened its appearance but the ravages of the fire remain. But then he feels her arms embrace him from behind and her lips on his back as she kisses the damaged skin. When she moves back to face him, he sees a tear track down her cheek and brushes it away with his hand.

"I know Lizzy, it is difficult to look at."

_"_ No Raymond, you are beautiful to me," she says looking into his haunted eyes. "You are beautiful."

She can't bear the doubt in his eyes. That even now there is a part of him that finds it so difficult to trust in her desire for him and reaching down she takes his hand bringing it to her heart. _This is what you do to me_ as her heart races against his hand. As he feels her reaction to its placement on her body. It is the same for her as with him and nothing has ever meant as much.

When all the barriers are gone they revel in each other and neither has ever felt so cherished as their hands explore and discover and surrender. They move in perfect unison, just like a dance.


	9. Long, Long Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One last day in New York...
> 
> Thanks for reading!

It is mid-morning when he wakes and he can't remember the last time he has slept so deeply or so contented. Reaching next to him, seeking the reason for his contentment, he finds only the warmth where her body lay close to him all night, neither wanting to break contact with the other. She hasn't been up long and he thinks she must have slept just as soundly.

Red has been used to the company of women and also used to his solitary existence except for his closest associates. What he is not used to is missing someone, something he hasn't allowed himself for a long, long time. Self-preservation being vital to his continued survival, he has always maintained a certain distance and many defenses.

One night with Elizabeth and already there is a deeper connection than he has ever known. Already he misses her in just these few quiet moments and giving into the feeling, rises and puts on his robe as he walks toward the living room.

He sees her at the window, but she makes no response at his entrance into the room. Appears lost in thought and he wonders if she feels as he does. Thrown off course without any clear heading telling them where they are going.

* * *

She had woken curled up next to him and stayed there in the warmth of their two bodies listening to his steady breathing. Loving the fact that she could watch him sleep, his face completely relaxed and even boyish as the morning sun catches the blond of his eyelashes. Eventually she slips out of bed and grabs his discarded shirt from the floor and pulls it around her, breathing in his cologne as she buttons it and rolls the too long sleeves. Liz finds the bathroom and splashes some water on her face. Tries to tame her tousled hair but thinking of the previous night's events, she finally gives up with a smile deciding, all things considered, she looks great.

After wandering through the rest of the apartment, she gathers a few more bits of information to add to her collection. Still deciphering the mystery of the man she spent the night with as opposed to the one from the wanted poster. The love of reading and art are known to her, but it seems he has an affinity for antique maps as there are many, beautifully framed and hung on just about every inch of the walls in the library. There are other antiques as well, mostly of a nautical flair and once again she wonders what would have happened had he remained a sailor.

_We would never have met._

That may include the first time as well, she realizes with a jolt. He wouldn't have been there to save her. _You were saved for a reason._ It's almost as if it were meant to be, as if it were fate. Normally Liz would laugh off such a sentimental thought but after everything that has happened and especially after the night they just shared she can't make light of it. It is too deep and meaningful for that and she feels a lump rise in her throat.

Gazing around this most personal of rooms with his love of the ocean on full display she is more convinced than ever he didn't choose to leave it. Circumstances and duty and perhaps betrayal all conspired to prevent his return to this first love. She knows he is not without fault but is this why his current path is such a destructive one? At war with the world and with whatever demons still chasing him?

Walking back into the living room she sees the painting, his gift to her so thoughtful and beautiful, and again her emotions rise to the surface. He has shaken her to her core and there is no going back. She walks to the window gazing out at the city beyond, thinking of the days that lie before them. What will happen when she returns to her life now that her life is no longer the same? It seems incomprehensible and the fear starts to creep around the edges and is threatening to overwhelm her when she feels him come up behind her and fold his arms around her.

_Just in time._

"I missed you when I woke," he says close to her ear, his voice much lower than normal. "What are you thinking about?"

She reaches up to hold onto his arms letting him bring her back from where her thoughts were leading. Let's his warmth flow through her for the first time realizing how chilled she has become, but makes no response. Not trusting her voice.

"Tell me," he presses, feeling it's important. Feels how firmly she takes hold and the hint of desperation he senses.

"I'm going home in the morning and then…."

Her voice trails off and the emotion is unmistakable. It is as he thought. The unknown that is circling round them and with it the fear. Once she returns home and he… well, he has no idea what he will do or what her wishes will be. Washington is not New York and they cannot be so unguarded as they have been in the past few days. And there is still the information about her past he must tell her, but she will determine when and how that occurs. After that….

"I have an idea. Later, why don't you check out of your hotel and come back here to a nice meal. We'll drink some wine and then some more and tomorrow it'll be a lovely New York Sunday which are the best days. You can return with me to D.C. tomorrow evening. We have one more day, Lizzy. Let's hang onto it as long as we can."

"I love Sundays, too," she whispers as his words settle over her.

Lizzy closes her eyes and let's go, focusing only on Raymond, the feel of his arms around her and the softness of his lips as he leans down kissing her below her ear. The fear slips away, temporary though it may be, and is replaced by a stirring and the longing for him as he continues to kiss the side of her neck.

"So what shall we do with the rest of our time here then," she asks, feeling the playfulness returning as her mood lightens. Because they're together and the world isn't intruding for now.

"I have a few ideas," he says, his voice dropping even lower.

"Sightseeing?"

That makes him chuckle and she loves the sound and feel of it against her skin.

"There's Times Square."

"Too crowded," he says in between kisses along the back of her neck.

"Rockefeller Center?"

"Too early to ice-skate." And it's her turn to laugh at the image this conjures.

"Well, then I'm at a loss," she says with a shrug of her shoulders.

He brings his hand up to the top button of his shirt that she is wearing and deftly unbuttons it, slipping his hand in to rest over her heart. Just as before, he feels it racing, matching his own pulse as their bodies begin the dance once more. Her breath quickens as her chest rises and falls beneath his palm and he brings his lips close to her ear.

"What was that about sightseeing," he whispers, moving his hand down sending that current to every part of her body. "You're not fooling me in the least."

When she turns, running her hands up the front of his robe and around his neck as his own drop low on her back pulling her in close, she finally sees his expression and the look in his eyes. The desire but also an understanding. _He feels it, too,_ she thinks. These stolen days coming to an end and then the unknown that neither want to face.

But here and for the next day, at least, it all fades away.

"I still have a few secrets you haven't figured out, Reddington," she murmurs with just enough challenge in her voice that sends his pulse racing at the thought of discovering them one by one.

"Well, then I better get to it," he says, reaching between them to the buttons of his shirt.

* * *

Later, much later, Liz returns from checking out of her hotel to find delicious smells and the clanking and clattering of a master chef at work coming from the kitchen. She deposits her suitcase in the bedroom and heads toward the noise, passing a turntable on the way and sees he has pulled out several albums for the occasion. Currently it's Ella Fitzgerald singing _Love Is Here To Stay_ and she stops to listen for a moment…

_But oh my dear_  
_Our love is here to stay_  
_Together we're going a long long way_

There's a small smile at the corners of her mouth, a little wistful as Lizzy glances toward to kitchen. Never one for too much sentimentality, she is somewhat surprised how strong the feeling is and how quickly those feelings have grown in the last weeks. Wonders briefly if those feelings started with that damn scruffy wanted poster because why else would she feel like she was already in the middle of something the first moment he spoke to her?

Red doesn't hear her enter as he chops and sautés and Lizzy realizes he approaches cooking the same as everything else. With passion and the flair for the dramatic as he tosses the ingredients together as a conductor would, directing the movement of an orchestra. _And looking very good doing it_ , she thinks, in simple black slacks and a blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Yes, very good indeed.

He is turning to throw a dash of salt over his shoulder when he sees her leaning against the counter looking at him in that way that makes his pulse quicken and hears her say, "Honey, I'm home."

There's that beautiful smile he loves and he is grateful the uncertainty of the morning has not returned and there is still a lightness in the air. She has showered and changed and he has a fleeting moment of regret he wasn't there for the former, but she had left too quickly for her hotel, wanting to get the trip completed.

"Just in time, _dear,"_ he says, stopping to pour her a glass of wine and bringing it to her along with a quick kiss.

She reaches out pulling him back by his belt. "Hey is that the best you've got?"

After a proper and mind-blowing kiss he mumbles something about his sauce and Lizzy let's him go to it. She enjoys watching him cook for her and remembers the first time he did so at her apartment. How much care he put into it and she smiles at this unexpected but domestic side of him.

She's sitting at the counter as Raymond talks about the essentials of fresh herbs when he suddenly comes to take her hand saying _It's simmer time_ and she's honestly not sure if he means them or the sauce.

Ella and Louis have moved onto _The Nearness of You_ as he gathers her into his arms for a dance.

"Pulling out all the stops I see, Reddington."

"Shhhh," he whispers with that little laugh she loves to bring out. "You're going to have to help a little here."

Her words to him from the night before and she is happy. For this perfect day, she is happy.

* * *

Dinner is an event as expected, followed by more dancing and ending with the pair snuggled on the couch watching a movie. _Rear Window_ that they join just a little ways in and the next thing Red remembers, Lizzy is waking him up.

"You fell asleep at the best part," she says teasingly.

"Lizzy, who are you kidding? You were out like a light five minutes in," his voice a low rumble after sleeping so soundly.

"Well, you kept me up too late."

"I think it was you keeping me-"

"Reddington, you need to quit while you're ahead," she says arching a brow at him.

And she's laughing at his _yes dear_ response as they make their way to the bedroom, undress throwing their clothes in a pile and are in bed curled up and half asleep within minutes.

"Look at us, Lizzy. Second night together and we can barely stay awake," he mumbles sleepily. "The romance is gone already."

He's joking, of course, but she moves closer to him entwining her leg with his as she replies, "This is romantic too, you know."

The soft kiss on her head and his whispered _I know_ is the last thing she remembers before waking to the sun streaming in Sunday morning. Their last day of escape.

* * *

He had called Sundays the _best days_ and this one was, if not just a little bittersweet. Knowing by evening the pair would be on his jet bringing her back to her job, her life and all that had come before makes them hold on a little tighter to the other.

They rise early to take a walk around his quiet neighborhood. The warm weather they've enjoyed is gone and this is the first real day it has felt like fall with the crispness in the air and the leaves fluttering underfoot. He makes a comment about it just as she was about to say the same and there it is. Another little connection that seems so unimportant but is so meaningful to both.

They ramble around as they have done before, without plan or timeframe. When they return to the apartment after lunch Lizzy immediately senses the unsettled feeling just there, beyond the edges. She turns to him and slides her arms under the light jacket he is still wearing and pulls him to her.

He doesn't need to ask. He already knows and when she lifts her face to his, reaches down to kiss her. _Make me forget tomorrow, Raymond. For a little while longer._

When he leads them to their room as he has already begun to think of it, he loves her so tenderly and deeply the only thing remaining in the world is this beautiful fall day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up the chapter that has caused me much stress. It's all Red's fault


	10. Purpose of Evasion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lizzy goes back to work after a really nice vacation and that's always a struggle amirite?
> 
> Thanks for reading!

There is little conversation on the flight back to D.C. and even less in the car on the way to Liz's townhouse. They hold hands and force a few smiles between them. Tell themselves this isn't a goodbye even though it certainly seems like one. It has already been decided that Red will not be staying so there is little awkwardness as the separation approaches. Just an emptiness knowing they have left something precious behind in New York. Anonymity and a distance from the agency had protected them to a certain degree.

The bad idea that became something so incredibly meaningful was still a very dangerous idea and a risk for both. It was Red that took the first tentative steps toward a plan, if one could call it that. It was simply a way to protect them both and Lizzy most of all.

He needed to resume some business dealings and also continue changing locations that had served him well over the years and ensured his freedom. For the time being, they will meet sporadically without a schedule. Somewhere out of the city perhaps and only when both feel it is safe to do so. When Lizzy is ready to hear what he must tell her, it will be so. Beyond that, they will see what comes.

He walks her into her home depositing the suitcase in the living room but the goodbye is quick. Both a little overwhelmed by the past few days and perhaps a little time apart will help clear their minds. They will see each other toward the end of the week when Red returns from wherever he is going. She doesn't ask and he doesn't elaborate as both know this will be the way of it.

At the last second, just as he's reaching the door, she stops him. Can't let him go without something more than a simple kiss and pulls him to her, resting her head on his chest. His response is immediate and just as desperate as hers. Silly really since they'll be together again in a few days.

"I know, Elizabeth," he whispers, even though he has never felt so uncertain. He waits for her to let go and brings a hand under her chin tipping her face up. Wants to see those eyes once more and softly brushes her lips with a kiss.

The night swallows him up and Liz thinks of all the things she should have said but the words would not be found.

Later while unpacking, she comes across the painting. That stretch of shoreline that at first impression she thought was just after a storm. Now she's not so sure looking at the cloud-filled sky and the churning of the water. It is sometimes hard to tell when a storm is coming in or going out. She props the painting on the dresser for now so it will be close and she'll be able to look at it before going to sleep.

The FBI files she had brought with her are still in her briefcase and she lays them next to the painting. The official file and the unofficial that she pulled together without anyone's knowledge. She had intended to look them over in New York to gain some understanding of what happened, but never gave them a second thought until this moment.

_Perhaps it's time._

She absently rubs at her scar and thinks it is time for him to tell her. Feels herself being pulled in two directions, between an unknown past and the uncertain future. The answers she seeks could take them somewhere she never wanted or intended, but before they can deal with the future, it is time to settle up with the past.

Her eyes dart from the painting to the files. Is the storm coming in or going out? She has no idea.

* * *

Agent Elizabeth Keen half expected to be immediately found out as she walks into the Post Office the next morning, but everything is as it ever was. Except her, it seems. She's the one that arrives back a new person while the workings of the task force go on around her.

She stops for a chat with Aram and tells her first truth of the day. _Yes, the conference was excellent and New York was beautiful._ This is followed by her first untruth of the day as she answers the typical post-vacation questions. She hates the lies and quickly changes the subject before heading to her office.

There it is, though. The Most Wanted display and she can't help the small smile she gives him as she goes by. Another thing that never changes, she thinks, as she sits at her desk to wade through the mountain of paperwork that has grown in her absence and a fleeting thought passes. Why _does_ that number four never change? The list shuffles frequently except his position.

Digging out a legal pad from the jumble of her desk, she jots down _why four?_ and stashes it in her briefcase. Another mystery to add to the others. She knows it would be simpler to ask him, but the haunted expression that came every time he thought he would have to say the words hurt her deeply in ways she could not explain.

She resolves to read the files before his return with the hope of gaining a few answers beforehand and lessening the ordeal of his story. Looking down at her scarred wrist she knows she owes him that much at least.

* * *

The first thing Liz discovers about Raymond Reddington is how much there is left to unravel and how he surprises her still. That afternoon just as she's getting in her car to drive home she receives a text from one _A. Dyle_ and she honestly can't believe it. Or that he knew how, who is he kidding. She gets a little emotional reading the message and thinking of Dembe teaching him the process.

_Frozen waffles are not dinner._

That's it and suddenly she's laughing as she wipes a few tears away because it's the only way for him to tell her he's thinking of her and that he is safe.

* * *

That dinner probably would have ended up being frozen waffles makes her stop for take-out which she eats standing at her dining table. Her files on Number Four are spread out and she soon realizes this may be a fruitless endeavor. After sorting both files, the official and her unofficial, it is hardly any information at all and much of it overlapping.

The official file telling her of his Naval Academy graduation but it also includes his aptitude tests and she is honestly amazed. His intellect is apparent but seeing the scores, she's convinced he was singled out very early for training in covert intelligence.

So he was a spy or spy handler, she muses. His gift of languages making this the most logical course. She finds a curious page in the unofficial file of a simple column with years ranging from the late 1980s up to 1990 where it abruptly stops. For each year there are multiple dates listed, followed by abbreviations that make no sense to her. A coded record of his meetings with a source perhaps.

Liz glances back at the 1990 date and recalls what she knows of his last day as a supposed Naval Officer. A wife and daughter waiting at home Christmas Eve but he never arrives. An abandoned car the only evidence left behind until years later when he surfaced. She looks for a paper she had glanced at earlier and picks it up once more. Reads the names of his wife and daughter, Carla and Jennifer Reddington, their pertinent information and at the bottom a simple notation. _Order for Protective Custody issued._

She suddenly steps back from the table letting the page fall. Walks toward the living room and begins pacing as the nervous energy takes over. _This is not right,_ she thinks. All this time she has looked at him as two men in a way. Number Four, the criminal, and later Raymond, the man she spent last week with. But these are not two separate men, just one deeply flawed and damaged man. A man who once had a family and career until what? Until a fire raged god knows where, and a girl was saved while his family was…..lost? A man who became a criminal and a seller of secrets when nothing remained of value in his life?

Walking to the table, Liz gathers up every paper, takes them to the fireplace and striking a match she watches them burn. Rubbing the scar at her wrist, she knows the story must come from him. It feels like deceit trying to put together the pieces of his shattered life and she has no right. He is not just a number anymore and it's impossible to look at him that way again. The tears forming in her eyes are for Raymond who is more real to her than any man she has ever known.

Thinking of his daughter, her heart aches for him. The man she knows would not have left unless forced to do so. The caring and attentive lover that she misses so profoundly right then would not have abandoned a wife no matter the state of the marriage. But leave he did and has been running ever since with a thousand crimes in his wake. As she watches the last of the pages burn, she thinks the fire that left them scarred did the same. Burned their lives into ash and scattered them to the winds.

* * *

Liz is impatient for his return now. Feels her emotions rising to the surface at odd moments. She had contemplated his life in the Navy but envisioning him as a husband and father with a life and friends is an area she had not touched. Realizing what he lost all those years ago has opened something inside her, a place in her heart meant only for him, and the need to have him close again is overwhelming.

The single text message she receives everyday is her only connection until his return. _Are frozen waffles really a suitable breakfast?_ greets her Tuesday morning, lifting her spirits as she leaves for work. However, the wanted poster makes that ache return in her chest every time she looks at it now.

Wednesday's _they're playing our song_ has her stumped for a minute until she recalls the dance in his apartment. Ella and Louis singing _The Nearness of You_ and she's certain he brought the album with him and is listening to it right then.

Thursday it is a lunchtime _Steve Morgan,_ his current alias she supposes. She thinks about it through the afternoon until she recalls the line _you know how to whistle don't you….._ maybe his way of telling her he's in France by the _To Have And Have Not_ reference and hopefully making his way back to her.

These messages hold more meaning for her than any love letter possibly could and they have comforted her during a difficult week. That he would do something so out of character just to make her smile makes her feel...something she is not prepared to think or say just yet, but it is there waiting for her to acknowledge it.

By Friday, Liz is impatient for the end of the day. Wants nothing more than a break from the uneasiness that has settled around her at work. She felt it Monday morning when she stepped off the elevator. Like stepping into a strange land where once everything was familiar. It is a relief when she receives the _breaking and entering currently in progress_ message and knows what will be waiting for her at home.

* * *

Lizzy isn't sure what to expect when she arrives home but Red asleep on the couch isn't it. He wakes as she is removing her jacket and his smile is one of relief at seeing her. Everything she has felt since he left is written in his eyes. It was the same for him as with her.

"Hey, is there room for me, too?" she says returning his smile, but he hears the catch in her voice.

"Get over here," is the comeback, his voice lower than usual just after waking.

And she does.

Suddenly they're tangled up on the couch and it's all they need for now. Holding tight and thankful nothing has changed, that the connection is unbroken.

"You're getting very bossy all of a sudden," she mumbles into his chest.

There's that little laugh she has missed and he pulls her closer, rubbing his hands along her back. He can feel the coldness from the chilly day in her clothes and smells the wind in her hair. Feels her body start to tremble and knows it's not from the cold.

"Are you alright?"

The nod of her head is the only answer and so they remain like that. Lizzy holding tight as Raymond gently rubs her back until her body stills. Both wondering how it is that they feel so much in such a short period of time but neither giving voice to those thoughts.

He senses a change in her. Something just out of reach to him is troubling her, but he will wait. Holds her closer and waits.

"Raymond, I have something serious to talk about."

Her voice is somber and it gets his attention immediately. The hands rubbing her back come to a rest as he waits for her to continue.

"Did Dembe teach you how to send that text?"

_That's my Lizzy,_ he thinks as he relaxes. Whatever it is he senses is still there but for now she is not ready. The lightness returning to her mood is infectious and god how he's missed her.

"Now Lizzy, I'm perfectly capable-"

"I know you are," she says softly, finally turning her face up to look at him. "But I'm guessing that is not a normal habit. Thank you. I like knowing you're okay."

"I like you knowing it."

It is something he has not felt in a very long time. That need to check in and maintain a connection even when separated by an ocean. To reach out when he listens to a shared song or an attempt to alleviate worry. The worry he knew was there when she delayed him walking out the door but didn't have the words to speak it. Everything is different with her, but also different for her. Raymond feels himself slipping into unchartered waters and the only certainty before him is the knowledge that she's worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I knew what happened Red sent that text to Lizzy so if it seems ooc take it up with him. I imagine there are a lot of changes headed his way ;)


	11. In The In-Between

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos. Enjoy!

Red wakes just after dawn, the room only just beginning to brighten. Doesn't know what disturbed him as the house is still and quiet. Turning he can see her outline in the pale morning light with her dark hair spread out on the pillow behind her. Sometime during the night she put on his undershirt, a habit she is quickly developing and one he likes very much.

Even facing away, he knows she's awake. Can tell by her breathing and the tension in her body. Moving over, he presses his body to hers and reaches his arm around her gathering her close. Not saying anything, she wraps an arm around his.

"Are you alright?"

His question from the evening before. The one she nodded _yes_ to even as he knew this was not the case. On the surface everything is as it was in New York, but underneath she is troubled. He's not surprised, really. Returning to her work with the task force while engaged in….whatever this is with a wanted criminal. He'd hardly expect otherwise and has wanted to broach the subject. Perhaps make it easier for her to tell him to go and not return.

He hasn't found the right words yet because the truth is he is beginning to need her and he doesn't need anyone. Not in that way. His relationships have always been superficial and fleeting, but now every rule he has ever laid out for himself has been broken since that night she caught his eye.

The fear that she will be left broken, her life in shambles as a result of their involvement is real. What a damn fool he is for putting her at risk and she must feel that risk, too, but where he would expect her to pull away, she does the opposite. Keeps holding on as she does at this moment.

"Elizabeth," he breathes her name close to her ear entreating her to talk to him. "If you need this to end, it will. Perhaps I should-"

"I read your file," she says it so quietly he barely hears her and the words are the furthest from what he expected.

"I don't understand."

"Your FBI file. I read it, or part of it, and I'm sorry."

Whatever emotion is behind the whispered words is lost to him. Anger, confusion, or perhaps regret. He wishes he could see her face then but doesn't want to disturb this confidence of whatever it is that has been there between them since his return.

"Lizzy, there is no need. I would have expected you to. What is it that has upset you?"

He is unsure what exactly the file contains but his crimes are numerous, some known and unknown to the FBI. She is aware of his history and has been from the beginning, but it must be a hard thing to see his past deeds laid out so clinically, especially under their current circumstances.

Lizzy exhales as if she's been holding her breath all this time and turns to face him. The room is brighter now as the sun is rising and they can see each other clearly. See the uncertainty mirrored in the other's expression.

"I read about your wife and daughter. That they've been placed in protective custody and I wondered…"

She hesitates not quite knowing how to proceed. The pain flashes across his face before he subdues it and puts it away, back where he keeps it locked up tight.

"It's all connected, isn't it? The fire, my parents, your family, you running. I know it's all connected somehow. I'm right, aren't I?" she asks, searching his eyes. Sees the confusion her unexpected question brings and several seconds pass before he answers.

"Yes."

She doesn't hesitate, wanting to say the words that have dominated her thoughts. "You didn't leave your family. You lost them, didn't you? We both lost our families that night, just in different ways. I'm right, aren't I?"

"Yes," he says. Because it's the last remaining truth from his former life that he has carried with him all this time.

No one has ever asked him that question. Apart from the handful of people that know the full account, no one has ever asked him. Not those that would claim a friendship with him or the women that have drifted in and out of his life. All knowing the story of Raymond Reddington and all believing he walked away from his wife and child, never looking back.

Until this moment. Expecting her to list some past criminal deed that stood out from all the others, instead she touches one of his deepest secrets and answers it herself, seeking only his confirmation.

"I'm sorry, Raymond."

The pain in her eyes is unbearable. This pain that is only for him and he has nowhere to put it as it washes over him.

"Lizzy, it was long ago-"

"No, don't diminish it, not to me. I'm sorry," and that place in her heart she has begun to feel is just for him is breaking. For the man accused of abandonment when it was not so. Guilty of so much but this one thing because he would never have willingly hurt those closest to him.

She closes the remaining distance between them, encircling him with her arms. Comforting him for a loss from long ago. Feeling how tightly he holds her as he fights to steady his breathing, she senses how deeply her words have affected him.

They are both being pulled between the past and the future, she thinks, not just her. Pulled between her life and his but somewhere in this in-between where they find themselves, she realizes one indisputable fact.

She knows his heart.

Raymond's corrupt and damaged heart that is capable of goodness still. Letting go for a moment she slips off his undershirt, wanting nothing between them and longing to be closer to him. He follows her with his eyes as the desire returns in an instant and he has never seen anything lovelier than Elizabeth right at that moment with the early morning light streaming over her body. But it is her beautiful heart that reaches the deepest part of his soul.

He pulls her close once more desperate for the feel of her next to him. Placing her hand on his chest she finds the beating of his heart as it races. It is the same for him as with her. She kisses him then and he could die from its tenderness. He surrenders to it and lets her love him and loves her back. Lets her lead the way as he's mindless of everything but how she feels like home.

_I know your heart._

The last thing she whispers before they sleep.

* * *

They leave the past alone for the rest of their time together, content to let things be. The weekend is spent at a borrowed estate north of the city and along the river. Instantly as they leave D.C. the burden they feel at being found out lessens and just as in New York they could be any other couple enjoying a little escape.

Lizzy drives them through the countryside looking at the early fall foliage, stopping at a local farmer's market where he buys too much of everything, including three pies. He makes her laugh at his enthusiasm for these simple pleasures and she shakes off the sadness that accompanies it. That evening, Red cooks them a beautiful dinner and once again they fall asleep on the couch afterwards.

"This is getting ridiculous," he says in mock embarrassment after nudging her awake.

"It's all your fault, feeding me all that pie," she mumbles sleepily as she stretches and wonders if they'll ever finish a movie together.

Standing up and grabbing her hand he pulls her along with him saying, "Come on then, I know an excellent way to work off that second piece."

"Only the second piece, Reddington? I thought you enjoyed a challenge," she teases and is rewarded with a chuckle.

"Lizzy, I'm always up for a challenge," and he's not playing fair whispering it in her ear sending a thrill throughout her body.

Their laughter fills the house. They are happy. That their happiness is so easily found outside the confines of Washington is a topic neither know how to deal with just yet.

* * *

They get up early Monday to spend a little time together before Lizzy leaves for the task force. Back in her home, she watches him in the kitchen cooking a quick breakfast and knows when he leaves the tug-of-war will resume.

The double life she has entered into, willingly without a doubt, but more difficult than she could possibly imagine. Her work with the FBI at war with her relationship with one of its most wanted criminals and there are decisions that will come. Risks that weigh heavily on their shoulders.

Once again she feels the past catching up with her and the future just out of reach. As they finish breakfast and the time for her to leave is approaching, Lizzy decides to do what must be done. To take a step forward by dealing with what is behind her.

"Raymond, I need you to tell me," she says softly and doesn't elaborate, but he understands and looks at her with such sadness, she almost changes her mind. Almost.

"I know you want this, but I'm going to ask something of you. Something I want you to give careful consideration to. Can you do that?"

His eyes never leave her face, boring into her as the seriousness of his tone takes hold.

"Of course."

"You need to decide if you really want this, Elizabeth. You were never meant to know it, that's the plain truth of it. Never. It's the reason Sam never told you even as he lay dying because it was never meant to be spoken of again. That is a serious thing and there is no coming back from it. It will be the most awful thing you have ever heard."

His words send a chill through her body, one that he can almost feel just by looking at her, but it cannot be helped. He thinks of the bargain they made, behind the tree as the lights danced around them. When all he wanted was to safely escape the situation as his attraction for her grew, however, he did not know her then. He made that deal in honesty but at the time thought he could tell her only pieces and parts of the story. Still painful but not devastating. That is no longer the case as she is astute enough to already be sorting through the puzzle. She will know all or nothing and the decision is hers.

"Promise me you'll think about this."

"I promise."


	12. Tell Me On A Sunday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’ve reached the backstory chapter dun dun dun….  
> Originally I thought this would be a small event and we’d quickly move on because, like Spader, I concentrate on the future of Red and Lizzy's relationship. However, the closer I got to it, the more important it became to me and I wanted to do it some sort of justice. The show is so focused on how the past affects Liz that I sometimes forget what it did to Red. Hopefully this conveys the impact to both.
> 
> Of course all my knowledge of 1980’s Cold War spying in D.C. apparently comes from _The Americans_ so Phillip and Elizabeth Jennings influenced to a small degree Constantin and Katarina.
> 
> Thanks again for reading!

He tells her on a Sunday for no other reason than she wanted it to be that day. It wasn't a story for the hectic workweek or a Saturday busy playing catch-up. Not for a day when Raymond had just arrived from one of his many trips when all they wanted to do is talk about many little nothings or nothing at all.

It was a beautiful fall day several weeks after her promise to think about whether she really wanted to know. A promise taken seriously as she contemplated his request and the seriousness with which he made it. In the end her decision was what it had always been. She needs to hear it, terrible though it would be.

Liz is convinced the only way to move forward is to let go of this past she has always wondered about. One she is reminded of every time she sees her scarred wrist.

He takes her to a cabin in the country, one of his many safehouses. Doesn't want her to hear it in her home but out here where there will be no reminder. Nothing at home to associate with this terrible thing. So on a crisp fall morning, he starts a fire in the stone hearth, fusses with it longer than necessary as she waits for him on the couch. Finally he comes to sit, near her but not touching. Not even looking at her as his eyes are turned toward the flames.

"Tell me what you've figured out," is the way he starts it. First, because he is genuinely curious and always impressed with her bright, inquisitive mind. Second, to delay the inevitable.

The question throws her for a moment and she is unsure about answering. Still does not like the feelings brought out by reading his FBI file but her discomfort is nothing compared to his so she does as he asks giving him this small reprieve.

"I'm not sure I've figured anything out but I believe you were recruited into counterintelligence just after joining the Navy. Considering the timeframe and your language skills, I'd say there was a focus on Russian intel. You were a spy or handler, I'm not sure. Obviously something went terribly wrong. My parents were involved in some way, perhaps as part of your agency or a foreign one."

Glancing toward her he replies, "It's a wonder you weren't recruited yourself. You are very good."

She doesn't comment and he once again looks toward the fire. "I suppose then I should start by telling you your real name, Lizzy. It is Masha Rostova. Your father was Constantin Rostov and your mother, Katarina. It is with your mother where it begins."

Without their scarred bodies or the look on his face as evidence, Lizzy would have believed it a work of fiction. Spies, agents, double agents and lies. Treachery and lies.

Lizzy had guessed right. Raymond was routed into a classified task force much like the one she was assigned to. Naval Intelligence remained his cover, when in reality he hunted the spies that roamed Washington in those waning days of the Cold War.

"We knew of a team at work in D.C. that had a source within the FBI. Intelligence had been making its way to Russia time and again and after months we were able to locate the leak. We held back apprehending him until his contact could also be found, but we were always a step behind. I spotted them once and gave chase but was unable to catch them. All we knew at that point was that we were looking for a man and a woman. That's all we had and were beginning to think we'd never find them until your mother sat down across from me at a diner one morning saying, 'Mr. Reddington, I believe you have been looking for me' and so it began."

Her parents were Russian agents so deeply embedded in their average American lives their covers were never questioned. Lizzy can hardly comprehend his words even though she had suspected something similar as she had thought about the fire. Stationed in Washington for years, a normal suburban couple both with government jobs, working their way up the ladder and gathering secrets.

Until Katarina gathered a secret too large to handle on her own.

"Where she came by the intel, she always refused to say but the proof she offered of her information's authenticity was beyond reproach."

Information regarding an extremely powerful and secret organization with high ranking members representing several countries, the U.S. and Russia included. Shaping world events, influencing elections, overthrowing governments and all while the public had no knowledge or say.

"For whatever reason and with whatever information she had learned about me, she decided to take a chance and confide it to me and a more outlandish story I had never heard. But the way she told it, something convinced me to believe her even at that first meeting."

"So she was a double agent?"

It is her first question to him since he had began the story.

"No, not in the traditional sense. This group went against everything Katarina believed in, everything she felt she was fighting for. The manipulation involved as the people remained ignorant of their lives being moved around the chessboard. She despised it and wanted another to share the knowledge, but she did not choose her husband. She chose me."

"I don't understand."

"I'm not sure I do either, Lizzy, even now. She and your father most probably had a marriage arranged in large part by their government, however, from everything she said, it became a real marriage. She loved him, but still did not tell him this, her deepest secret. She felt the knowledge should be shared with an American. A balance of power if you will. I had gotten close to catching them on several occasions and she turned the tables and tracked me, gaining enough information that she decided to approach me. She was very good. You are your mother's daughter."

A tentative partnership was born between the two as they gathered information on the group, neither revealing anything they learned to their own people. There were too many unknowns, too many that could be involved and their lives would have been in danger.

Perhaps they should have left well enough alone, but they despised this secret power hungry cabal. Hated what it stood for. Sometimes the information they gathered was used to thwart its plans and maybe that was the goal. To chip away at its power which they were able to do in a small way until Katarina left for her homeland.

"At our last meeting, we divided the intel. A file where the information was stored which your mother took and an interface to access it which I secreted away. By this time she was pregnant and had insisted on returning to Russia to give birth to you. Something that caused a great strain on your parents' marriage, but in the end, he agreed to go with her. She left and I did not hear from her for several years. Until December 1990."

Lizzy is holding her breath, can hardly move. Feels the culmination of the story approaching. The terrible thing he does not want her to hear.

He rises then to throw another log on the fire, delaying once more the inevitable. Several minutes go by as he looks at the flames lost in the past, and she does not interrupt. Doesn't try to rush him through his most painful memories.

Finally he returns to his place on the couch to continue his tale.

"She made contact only as a last resort. In need of help and having no one to turn to. Her child taken by her husband without consent, without her knowledge. His desire to return to their post in America and raise their daughter as a second generation operative had pushed their marriage to the breaking point. In a moment of desperation Katarina told him the truth. Told him of this clandestine organization manipulating world events. Trying to impress upon him there was a greater war raging than just a cold one but he would not listen."

Lizzy is holding her breath as he pauses. The wave of information coming at her is unbelievable. She has no way to process what he is saying but there is more. Always more.

"Constantin was enraged at her apparent betrayal and made threats that your mother could not repeat to me. Horrible things and fearing for your safety she eventually gave him her portion of the file. He took you and fled to America. Betrayed his wife to their government and she barely escaped with her life. She was an incredible operative, Lizzy. The best I have ever seen, but she wanted a better life for you than the one she had known. Your father did not."

His anger is palpable even after all this time.

"Katarina came to me for help. To try to find you and to regain control of the file. The information in it was and is the most dangerous intel we ever possessed. We had no idea…."

No idea how their lives would be destroyed because of it. If they had only known they'd have thrown it in the ocean and never looked back.

"Constantin had tried to access the file but only I had the key. Things were precarious in those days as you know. Missiles directed at two opposing superpowers and tempers flaring. Some of this information outlining assassinations, warmongering, the toppling of regimes would have made the masses erupt. The Cabal would be willing to do anything to keep their existence secret."

His agitation is growing and Lizzy wants desperately to reach out and stop this torture to them both, but the wave is carrying her forward and there's no stopping it now.

Katarina returned to Washington seeking Red's help to locate Constantin who she feared would try to sell the information or blackmail the members.

"Our only hope was that without my half he could not read the contents. All he had was your mother's account and that would do him little good. We needed to locate him before he said too much to the wrong person and put you in more danger than you were already in. In the end, however, I'm the one that said too much."

He pauses again. The only sound in the room is the popping of the fire and Raymond's ragged breathing.

"I confided in my partner, seeking his help in locating Constantin and finally telling him of this secret organization. He had a source deep in Russian counterintelligence not known even to me. If anyone could find your father's whereabouts, it was him. He provided the location on Christmas Eve all the while informing the Cabal of our movements. I had no idea….would never have thought. I have never been so stupid in my life."

_Oh god, what have I done?_

Lizzy's only thought looking at this broken man and knowing something truly horrible was headed her way and powerless to stop it.

"They were waiting for us. Cabal operatives with orders to kill us when we entered the house and erasing all evidence. Some of it is a blur and some told to me later by your mother. We entered the house and proceeded to look for you and your father. Your mother and I separated in order to clear the house quickly. She went upstairs and a violent encounter took place between your parents."

He stops a final time. One last effort to keep to the deal that was struck so long ago and never have Elizabeth find out.

"You don't want to hear this."

"Say it." It is barely audible but there it is.

"It was an accident, Lizzy. Your parents were in a physical altercation, a violent fight when your father's gun was knocked from his hand. They didn't even know you were nearby, hadn't seen you enter the room. A child picking up a loaded weapon that should never have been there in the first place. It was an accident."

"Raymond, what are you saying? Who was shot?"

 _It will be the most awful thing you have ever heard._ Lizzy recalls his words a split second before he answers.

"Your father. Killed instantly."

* * *

There is no reaction to his words. She heard them, believes them, but can't seem to feel anything. Can barely draw breath in her lungs. He reaches for her then but she stops his movement with an outstretched hand.

If he touches her, she will shatter. Like the pages she burned, she will crumble into nothingness.

"No please. Finish it, just finish it."

He is in agony. For the past, for what might have been, for this woman who is falling apart in from of him and he is powerless. The worst feeling in Raymond Reddington's life is this helplessness. He has had to bear witness to the destruction that arises from it yet here he sits wallowing in it, this nightmare from his past.

"I heard the gunshot at the same time the front door was kicked in. Three men, maybe four, I've never known for sure. Bullets flying, a child screaming and chaos. I took out two of them immediately but an incendiary device was thrown, flames erupted and I was struck from behind. That's the last thing I remember until you were shaking me awake.'

"Me?" she whispers.

"You, Lizzy. You saved us."

He is looking at her but all he really sees is the walls of fire as he regained consciousness. The complete disorientation as the child screamed and they fought to breathe.

"Your mother was unconscious several feet away and there was no sign of the Cabal's remaining men. I threw a chair out a window and dropped you to the ground telling you to run. Your wrist was burned in the process. I went back for Katarina and we made it out just as the roof collapsed."

"My god."

"Yes, well, all hell had certainly broken loose. Your mother was stirring by this time and I picked you up and all but dragged her through the neighbor's yard to where my car was parked on a side street. The first phone booth I saw, I stopped and called Sam telling him to meet us at my home."

_Sam._

The rest of the story he recalls in stops and starts. His pain a physical presence in the room now and Lizzy doesn't know what to do but to let this play out and finish what she started.

"We ran out of gas. Unbelievable that I would allow that to happen. I just grabbed you and Katarina and we ran the rest of the way, but we were too late. Much too late."

The house empty. No sign of a struggle except for the blood at the entrance. Nothing but quiet and a dead calm as his world imploded.

"Sam arrived then, took one look at us and told us to get the hell in the car and now. I don't recall one word being spoken until we walked through his front door and he saw my back for the first time. My jacket had caught fire apparently and there were third degree….well, you know. I had no idea, never felt a thing until later. Shock, I suppose." He stops then as his thoughts travel back to the worst night of his life. The overwhelming pain from his injuries that assailed him as soon as the adrenaline from their flight died away. The mental anguish that kept him awake for more days than he knows even now.

"Your family, Raymond? My mother? Tell me," and for the first time there is a crack in her composure.

He is facing forward again. This whole time has stared at the fire as he recounted the events except when he had reached for her.

"Sam was a contract worker for the agency, but had become a close friend. I knew I could trust him and so we stayed. Dealt with our injuries as best we could and waited. Sam had a doctor he used in cases like ours and he arrived sometime in the middle of the night. Tended to your wrist and began the process of dealing with my back. The next morning Sam and I drove to a pay phone across town and I called my partner. Told him he failed and it was time to negotiate for our lives and my family."

"Oh, Raymond."

But he doesn't stop. Keeps right on going or he'll never be able to say the words he's kept locked away all these years.

"They knew we had information on them from Constantin, the stupid fool. Our lives were over at that point. They had my family in protective custody and as long as I stayed away and the file was never revealed, they would live. Their lives for our silence. What could we do?"

"But your family…"

She can't imagine it. Losing everything in a split second, but that is exactly what happened to them all.

"They were gone, Lizzy. The marriage was not a happy one, but my daughter…"

He stops to clear his throat as for the first time his voice falters.

"My daughter and her mother's life in exchange for my disappearance and silence. I had no choice, I had to make the deal. They knew of your parents at this point but you were only a rumor. We had to make the deal and disappear."

"But I don't understand….my mother?"

"Lizzy, your mother was never the same. We stayed hidden in Sam's house while I recovered and your mother just...faded away. Deep inside she knew we would be hunted forever and for you to stay with her was impossible. She left a note telling us where, but by the time we could get there, it was too late."

 _I was wrong,_ she thinks.

"She drove to Cape May, left her clothes on the beach and walked into the ocean."

_This is the most awful thing._

* * *

The rest is just details really and he says them quickly wanting to end both of their misery. Lizzy simply wants it all to stop and makes no response to the news of her mother's suicide. Just listens as the rest of the story tumbles out.

After weeks of taking care of the little girl, Sam was reluctant to let her go and told Red as much. In truth, he had wanted to leave Washington for some time and this was his opportunity. He was taking the child home to Nebraska to be near his sister and that was the end of it. Red was too distraught to argue and so arrangements were made.

The three traveled to Nebraska with Sam driving almost non-stop and never looking back. By the time Red left them days later, mended enough to set out alone, he knew Sam truly loved the little girl and she would be well looked after. An associate of Red's would make contact periodically to ensure their safety and later a home was purchased and money provided. He left believing he would never see either again in the hopes that the girl would be safe.

 _And she was_ _until we crossed paths._

He still had many contacts in the intelligence community and he learned his family was indeed unharmed. The blood was evidently from one of the cabal operatives that Red managed to shoot. After failing to kill Reddington and Katarina, they retreated from the burning home. The men were ordered to bring Carla Reddington and her daughter to the partner that had betrayed them all and they were placed in protective custody where he could control their movements and use them as a bargaining chip.

And so his life on the run began. Four years later when the Cabal got close enough that a bullet sailed past his head he sold the first secret to prove a point.

"But I don't understand. How did you have the file?"

There is a hint of a smile as he recalls the memory and continues, "You had it, Lizzy. Your father sewed it into a rabbit you never let out of you sight and which was still clutched in your hand through the whole ordeal. At some point you told Sam the bunny had _secrets_ and curious he investigated. I took it and the case that accessed it and have them still."

"What happened to your partner?"

"Oh, Peter? Became the director of clandestine services several years ago and promptly put my name in the number four slot just to annoy me and makes sure it never changes just to annoy me further."

_So that is why…._

Lizzy hates to ask the question but she must know the final part of this tragedy.

"And your family?"

There is a long pause before he answers. She watches as he blinks a few times, as if he's clearing his vision from these terrible memories. Finally he turns to her to finish this and speak aloud the deepest pain that haunts him to this day.

"They were given new identities and a few years later Carla remarried. From what I gather he is a decent man. He has filled the void in my daughter's life and I can only hope she was never told the truth and doesn't remember any of it, including my name."

Her face is white as a sheet and as Raymond watches the shadows from the fire play across it, he thinks about all the ghosts from the past. Nothing left of them but ashes blown into dust.


	13. Fallout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thank you for reading!

Lizzy had promised Raymond to think about whether she should hear the story. This she did, taking his words as seriously as his tone implied, but what she did not think about were the repercussions.

The destruction left in the wake of a tsunami. The aftermath of a bomb.

She glances at the clock on the mantle and it is just before noon. How is it possible that everything in her life could be so altered before the morning even passes away? They traveled a lifetime as he recounted those horrors but in reality very little time has passed and here they remain. Sitting on the sofa looking into the dying embers of the fire.

Close but not touching.

Closing her eyes, she wishes it were hours from now. Days. Weeks. Months. A time where the pain won't cut like a knife stealing the breath from her body. She thinks back to her flash of a memory trying to push further into it but there is nothing else. Nothing beyond the wall of fire, a child screaming, and darkness before the freezing air hits her.

It is as it has always been and no more. Except she now realizes the screaming came from her and the darkness was Raymond as he sheltered her on their way to the window.

Looking down at her scarred wrist, she knows this must have been the hand that held the gun. A shooting followed by despair followed by….

She can't even think it let alone speak it as she imagines her mother at the water's edge. A mother without even a face for her lost daughter to recall. Just the memories of a man who tried to fight a war with her and lost.

_Raymond._

The pain she feels is nothing compared to his. Her knowledge of the events are not memories. Memories that have chased him around the globe for two decades never giving him a moment's peace.

He hasn't allowed himself to visit these events in a very long time. They come and go fleetingly after so many years. A glimpse of his daughter's face, her laughter as it fades away. He has pictures of her as she is now. Knows what her life has become and that she is happy, but when he thinks of her it is always the child he held that comes to him. When he can bear it no more he lets her go back to the recesses of his mind and to the far reaches of his heart. This is what it takes to survive. Until the next time he allows her memory to visit.

The feel of Lizzy's hand in his is what brings him back. Pulls him back to her from those dark times and turning to look at her, not knowing what to expect in her expression, he sees only his Elizabeth. The same tenderness that has always been there whenever another barrier comes down. Always drawing closer to him when he expects her to retreat.

What do you say when you speak and hear the most awful thing? Not much, and that's just what they do. Not much for the remainder of the Sunday until it's time for the drive home. Lizzy asks a few questions about the details of her mother's death but nothing else. She has heard enough.

On the drive back she closes her eyes as if asleep and he lets her keep up the pretense. When he follows her inside he is not surprised she asks for some time alone. He hesitates but perhaps she needs a little breathing room and he doesn't want to push her. She walks him to the door but it doesn't feel like a goodbye this time, just a rest from what they have endured.

She pulls his coat closer together, fusses with his scarf a little until he stills her agitated hands with his own.

"Lizzy, it's okay. Why don't I stop by in the morning before work. Would that be alright?" Because he doesn't want to leave her. The worry is weighing heavily but it's just for the night...

"Of course, I just need to sleep. I'll see you in the morning," she says before reaching up to brush his lips with hers.

He's looking at her like she might fly apart but she won't allow it. She'll never get the pieces back together again so she takes a few steadying breaths, reassures him once again before he reluctantly goes.

* * *

However, there is no sleep to be found. She doesn't even bother attempting to lie down. The thoughts that she managed to suppress all day won't be stopped now that she is alone and her nervous agitation builds through the night.

She walks the house thinking of a gunshot she cannot remember and a stretch of beach that swallowed up what remained of her family.

Stopping in front of her dresser she looks at the small painting Raymond gave her. The one she looks at everyday trying to decide if the storm is coming in or going out, and something inside her is breaking.

Pulling a bag out of the closet, Lizzy quickly throws a few clothes in, enough for a day or two. Knows she cannot face the thought of work or her suffocating home any longer and there is a journey that must be made. A pilgrimage if there is any hope of surviving this weight of despair pressing in on her.

An email sent to Cooper informing him of her absence and a hastily scrawled note to Raymond she leaves on the table are her last tasks before she walks out the door.

_Don't worry, I'm okay._

* * *

_No you're not, Lizzy._

And as Red reads the note, he can't believe he let her push him out the door. The look on her face, her lack of reaction should have been a warning. It was, of course it was, but not wanting to hurt her anymore than he already had, he did as she asked.

Spending a sleepless night worried about her but not wanting to disturb her, he finally gives in and reaches her home just after six. She's gone and by the looks of her room, the undisturbed bed, she spent a sleepless night as well.

As he's turning to leave, he spies the painting propped on her dresser and goes to take a look. He had asked her if she'd like him to hang it for her, but she had said not yet. She liked having it close by.

Looking at the deserted shoreline he is suddenly positive where she is going.

* * *

Lizzy reaches the beach in the early morning, having driven straight through the night. She had asked him exactly where and so it is to this spot she comes. Why there is a pressing need to be here she cannot say. There is no memory of this lost mother. All that remains is the daughter she loved and fought for, the one she knew she couldn't live without. It is only right that she should be remembered.

It is a cold morning with clouds filling the dark skies. The wind laps at her face as she sits on the beach waiting for answers that will never come.

_The storm is coming in._

* * *

He doesn't know how far behind he is as he places a call to set things in motion.

"Kate, call Edward. I'm going to Cape May….yes, you heard correctly. Call him. And who do we know that has a house nearby? Arrange something and I need it now. As soon as I land."

The jet lands at mid-morning, much longer than expected as they waited for clearance to take off due to crosswinds from the storm blowing in from the Atlantic. There is a car waiting for him and directions to a safehouse. How Mr. Kaplan works these little miracles he will never know, but she has never failed him.

He makes it to the beach and the relief at seeing her car overwhelms him, but it is gone in a moment when he realizes it sits empty. The hotel is closed for the season and as he makes his way toward the beach, he sees not a soul in sight. The winds are driving the wind and rain into his face and it is hardly light out with the dark storm clouds rolling in.

The panic is rising as she is nowhere to be seen on the deserted veranda and so he keeps moving forward to the beach until he sees her. Just a small shape as she sits facing the water, seemingly oblivious to anything as he approaches. He calls to her repeatedly but her name is carried off by the wind. It is not until he reaches her, kneeling in front of her and shaking her by her arms, that she comes back to herself.

She is soaked through and completely dazed as she finally looks at him.

"Raymond."

The word is a whisper lost in the storm and he wastes no time in removing his jacket and placing it around her shoulders. Pulling her up and with an arm around her waist he leads her from the beach.

"Lizzy, listen to me, sweetheart. You're going to be fine." He tries to reassure her but the wind is so loud at this point it is useless. She makes no attempts to stop him, however, and simply lets him guide her steps.

He fishes her keys out of a pocket and deposits her in the passenger seat of her car. Deciding it would be best not to leave hers parked at the empty hotel, he retrieves his go bag that is always stored on the plane and transfers it to her car.

Within minutes he has the GPS activated with the safehouse address and they are speeding its way. The heater does nothing to stop her body from violently shivering and all he can do is repeat _Lizzy, I'm here, you're going to be alright,_ hoping his words get through.

She makes no response as she burrows into his jacket for warmth and finally he sees the shaking subside somewhat as the car fills with heat.

They reach the house, a large Victorian some distance from the water, which considering the circumstances Red is thankful for. He assists her inside, bringing her bag he spotted in the backseat, and stopping only to get the heat going in the house leads her straight upstairs.

Leaving her standing on the landing of the second floor, he opens all the doors, finally finding the master suite and returns to her, guiding her into the room.

Finally stopping to look at her, he's not sure if it's shock, extreme exhaustion or both as he reaches out to brush her rain soaked hair out of her face. First, he must get her warm and they'll deal with the rest later.

"Come on Lizzy, you can't stay in these wet things. You've been out in the elements too long as it is."

Taking her hand he walks with her into the bathroom and thank god it is large and modern. He starts the water in the shower warming up and turning back to her he starts peeling off the soaking layers. She attempts to help but soon gives up as her fingers are still too numb from the cold.

"You're cold, too," she whispers, her raspy voice strange to her ears.

"Nevermind about me, let's get you warmed up."

He is so gentle with her she feels the first cracks start to form in what's left of her composure. Closes her eyes and hangs on to him for balance and he removes the last layers. If she sees that look in his eyes, the kindness mixed with what she is afraid to name, she won't be able to stop the fractures running through and it will break her.

She lets him guide her to the shower and doesn't open her eyes until the spray hits her. Hears him say something about retrieving his bag from the car and _don't get out of that shower till I tell you to, Lizzy,_ but it feels so good she can't imagine ever leaving.

So intent on the warm water reviving her frozen body, she doesn't hear him return until the shower door opens and he joins her.

"I found these in your bag," he says, depositing her shampoo and bath soap from home.

Still not wanting to see that look in his eyes as the guilt from what she put him through added to her grief takes hold, she keeps her eyes fixed anywhere but his face until he turns her toward him and tips her face up to his.

"Lizzy, look at me. Please don't shut me out."

How can she not, hearing the pain in his voice? When her eyes finally meet his she sees it in an instant. He loves her as surely as if he had said the words out loud and it scares her to death how much she loves him back.

The tears are forming now and disappearing into the falling water, and he can tell she can't hold on much longer.

"I'm not good at letting people take care of me," she whispers, because there has never been anyone who meant this much to her.

"Then we'll take care of each other," is the simple reply as his eyes search her own.

He waits for her to make the decision, for her to cross the line, but he doesn't wait long as she reaches out pulling him to her. Let's him be the strong one today and forgets about everything else as he washes the salt from the ocean from her hair and body. Let's him dry her off and after mumbling _undershirt_ instead of the sleep shorts and tank she brought, lets him guide it over her head.

The house is warm now as they climb into the four-poster bed and she moves close to the warmth of his body.

They're facing each other and looking into her eyes he finally asks, "What happened out there?"

Her voice is quiet and there are tears just under the surface as she replies, "I just needed to see it but then I didn't know where to go and I was so tired. I think I lost myself…"

He reaches across to rub her back as he knows she likes, wanting to keep her warm as her damp hair continues to dry. Wanting to comfort her and never stop touching her.

"You're right here with me. I'll always find you, Elizabeth."

But they have found each other as impossible as that seems and they cling to this one truth they have discovered.

"I know you will," and seeing the grief she has caused him etched on his face continues, "I'm sorry for your pain, Raymond, for making you tell it, but I'm glad I know what happened. She deserves to be remembered by her daughter and so do…"

And so does he deserve to be remembered by his daughter but she can't say the words as the tears break free and he draws her to him. She cries for her doomed father who tore a family apart and a mother who didn't know how to go on. She cries for Sam who gave her a home and for herself because she misses him still. And she cries for this damaged man who never saw his family again and who has been slowly destroying himself ever since.

When there is nothing left she falls asleep holding onto him as he rubs her back until exhaustion finally claims him.

When he wakes hours later it is dark outside. The room is lit by a small lamp and she has been watching him sleep for a while. The confusion has left her as she slept and she realizes how desperately her body and mind needed to rest. To let it go for a time.

"Hey," is his sleepy greeting, his voice low as it is after waking.

"Hey yourself," she says and the whisper of a smile assures him she is better. Not recovered by any means but so much better.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks, as the smile lingers and she's looking at him with a curious expression.

Reaching out she runs a hand down his arm until it joins his own and she laces their fingers together.

"I'm thinking that I love you and that you love me back."

The bad idea that led to a dangerous idea that led to this. Raymond can't wrap his mind around it, but one thing is perfectly clear.

"Elizabeth, I'm thinking I like the sound of that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It should be noted that Mr Kaplan will be featured in this fic as the pre OOC version who is a dedicated employee and a loyal friend.


	14. Small Step

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of happy after a few serious chapters. Hope you enjoy!

They say time heals all wounds, but Lizzy isn't sure she believes it. Some wounds aren't meant to heal because the damage is too great and all you can hope for is survival. Perhaps the healing never stops as some new reminder will tear it open again until a new scar forms. She can't imagine going through this alone as Raymond had to and is grateful he is with her. The love she now recognizes in his eyes sustains her. His hand in hers grounds her when the feeling of losing herself returns.

It is his arms she turns to when the old nightmare finds her again. It is her hand he reaches for like a lifeline, making sure she is still there and reassuring himself it is all real. They have found each other and after so many years of being lost, he still fears it will all disappear as suddenly as it came.

She could never have imagined what the knowledge of her past would do to her. The feeling of her true self being stripped away leaving nothing at all. The images of those horrors replaying in her mind over and over like a movie. Not memories but real to her nonetheless. She catches herself looking at her hand that as a child reached for the gun not realizing the danger. Her mother running from her ruined life not stopping when she reached the ocean.

The days that follow are dark ones. It is right that it should be so, she thinks. The story holds too much despair to be brushed aside with a return to her old life. There were too many lives destroyed not to feel the impact.

So she lets herself feel it and doesn't question it. Like a storm surge that never seems to stop until eventually the waters recede and she can breathe a little easier.

She doesn't return to work that first week simply informing Cooper she is ill. Not much of a lie, really, as she struggles those first few days to sort through that nightmare and put it in its proper place. Lets Raymond take care of her but also does the same for him as he relives it all. Holds him close to her, whispering it is not his fault even as she knows his damaged heart will always bleed from this wound. She holds on tighter and feels him do the same, anchoring themselves to the other. They are not good at being cared for, they will freely admit, so they will do it together.

He places an envelope in her hands a few days after their return and opening it finds a picture of a couple with their child and one of the mother and little girl on a swing. All that is left of this family except the daughter looking at these worn photographs. Tipping the envelope a locket and chain fall in her hand and he translates the inscription for her of a father's gift to his daughter. Tells her they were found on the beach, her mother's last possessions except the clothes on her back. He waited to give them to her until the story was told but it is right that she should know their faces.

Liz finds that every day is easier than the last. She returns to work and although the struggle of her double life continues she is reminded of who she is. An agent, a profiler, a friend. She is still there underneath and won't let herself get lost so easily again.

She is Elizabeth and though she weeps for the Masha she doesn't know and can't remember, she realizes she must let her go. Masha ceased to be when a fire swept everything away and another little girl took her place. It had to be so. It was how she survived and so bit by bit she feels a return to herself.

Raymond notices it, too, and as she gets better so does he. Those ghosts that were recalled are back where they belong and Lizzy is here now. He would call it a miracle if he allowed himself to believe in them.

He has stayed with her these first few weeks refusing to leave. Taking her away on weekends to a new safehouse. Someplace out of the city so they can feel that freedom return. A chance to be themselves, once again like any other couple. It is on one of these drives that he knows they have survived it.

"Raymond, who are you today?"

"Oh here we go," he says in mock indignation, but inside he is thankful for this moment.

"Well, if you're too afraid to tell me knowing I'll guess-"

"If you must know I'm Joseph Bradley, but friends and lovers," he says bringing her hand to his lips for a kiss, "call me Joe."

"Roman Holiday! Reddington, you are so easy. Plus I know you secretly have a crush on Audrey Hepburn," she teases and her laughter feels so good after so long and she loves the smile she has brought to his face, realizing how much she has missed it.

"Lizzy, I'll have you know there are surprisingly few really good aliases to choose from. Can you imagine me declaring myself C.K. Dexter Haven?"

"Actually I can," and laughs again at his expression before continuing, "You know, I went to Rome in college with a group of friends and have always wanted to go back."

"Then we should go," and he thinks this is just what they need. Something to look forward to for a change.

"I have time off at the _holidays_? Get it?"

"Then we should go at the holidays, and your wit is truly amazing," he says with a roll of his eye but she doesn't miss the humor in them as well.

"This sounds like we're making plans which we usually don't do."

"Then we should start making plans." He reaches out to take her hand again and gives it a squeeze.

_Plans for the future?_

Even such a small thing as planning a trip seems monumental to them. It is like wishing for something that may never be surrounded as they are by so much risk, but the thought of an escape after what they have been through is too tantalizing. Their minds leave these painful days and begin reaching for what is ahead of them. One good thing to keep focused on. Such a small step but it is a way forward and that is enough for now.

Lizzy is gazing out of the window thinking she could get used to making plans with him when she recalls his earlier words.

"Reddington, what do you mean by _lovers?"_

And as his laughter fills the car, she thinks _perhaps this is what healing is._

* * *

The apartment is in Trastevere. Not one of Red's usual safehouses this time but one that used to belong to a dear friend. A professor he met years ago on one of his many trips there. He has always been partial to this little corner of the old city with the cobblestones and small winding streets. One morning they met over coffee and several hours later were still talking. Two expats that had left for different reasons but had seen much of the world and found they had much in common. Over the years Red made many visits to the apartment for dinner with the friend and his wife until her passing. The elderly gentleman never slept another night under its roof and did not long outlive her.

Without children or family to leave it to, Red became the beneficiary of the small apartment where a great love once lived. It is one of his treasures and he has never shared it with anyone.

He waits to see her reaction as she looks through its small rooms and goes to stand on the terrace overlooking a courtyard. So different from his usual four star hotels or even his safehouses filled with art and first editions. There is a story to this one.

"It's lovely. Tell me about it."

As he tells her the story she knows he is sharing something very special. That he has given her a gift with this small glimpse into his world.

* * *

They don't mind the cold as each day they set out to discover some new corner of this city they both love. She takes them to out of the way churches in search of her Michelangelo's and is surprised when she realizes he has a deep love for these ancient buildings. When she mentions it, he simply says it is their permanence he admires. That with all the wars and armies that have swept through, they remain. She teases that he is a romantic but his heart touches her time and again.

In the afternoons they begin making their way back toward the apartment, sometimes getting distracted along the way. Some new discovery to steal their attention. Sometimes they are the distraction as he pulls her to him for a kiss not minding the smiles from those that pass by.

"Mmmm Reddington, you know I'm only here for the gelato," she says after a particularly passionate kiss on their way to her favorite place.

"Lizzy, I promise you'll never give it another thought," he murmurs against her ear and damn him for driving every thought out of her mind.

"Well, I don't know about that," she says bending her head giving him better access to kiss her neck in just that spot she likes.

"Just you wait." And she's laughing as she finally gives in and they make their way back with their arms around one another.

* * *

It is right that they should be here when the old year passes into the new. They have an early dinner on this last day of the year, one that is ending far from where either began. The evening is spent at home as neither are interested in crowds or fireworks but finding this quiet life they have discovered worth so much more.

They are oblivious to everything but each other as the clock passes midnight and the city erupts. They are mindless to it all except their need for one another and how perfect they are together when nothing separates them. How they know each other so well now and nothing has ever felt as right.

She loves the feel of his heart as it beats against her chest and pulls him in closer and as that current that moves between them builds they know they are reaching a point these stolen moments won't be enough, but that will have to wait as both are lost.

* * *

"Raymond?"

"Hmmm," as he is just drifting off with his arms around her, never wanting to let her go.

"Remember how I told you I love you?" she says quietly thinking back to the day he found her.

"Of course."

"I do, you know. I really do," as she gathers his arms closer to her.

"Lizzy, it is the same for me as with you," he whispers before they fall asleep in a brand new year in the little apartment that knows a great love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> For the purposes of this story Constantin Rostov is indeed Lizzy's biological father and he is well and truly dead. All future references to her father pertain to Sam....the only father she remembers or cares about.


	15. Reckoning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are post 4.08 and honestly I'm still in shock. Although I tend to think it will later be proven that what Red revealed is not the case I suppose a retcon isn't out of the realm of possibility with this show. I doubt seriously I would be in the mood to finish this fic after that episode but hey as chance would have it, I had already completed it. I've decided to post the remaining chapters over the next few days so that those that want to read the conclusion of the story may do so and I suppose we'll see what the future holds in terms of the show. I will always believe in Lizzington and also that Red spoke the truth when he answered _no_ to Lizzy's question. That is enough for me.

Just about the time Liz dove off the car and tackled the suspect she and Samar have been chasing, her mind wonders for a moment why on earth she is doing this. She is committed at this point and hits him with a resounding thud as the collision sends them tumbling. It seems every part of her body hits the cement at once and suddenly everything hurts, but she is up in a second with a knee at his neck until Samar arrives to assist.

_I'm too old for this,_ she thinks as she fights for breath. Or maybe she's too young but either way this restlessness that has been growing since she met up with a criminal on a surveillance op is reaching a breaking point. Not to mention if leaping off cars is as fulfilling as she once thought it'd be.

Another breaking point are her ribs apparently as the sharp pain in her left side grows.

"Those ribs are going to need to be checked I'm afraid," Samar says, bringing the handcuffed suspect to his feet.

Liz attempts to respond but still can't seem to draw in the breath that was knocked from her lungs and remains hunched over. Between the altercation in the alley she chased him into and the leap off the car, she is beat to hell and back, but manages a thumbs up to Samar.

After returning to the Post Office and giving a hasty report on the afternoon's takedown, Cooper lays down the law and insists on her having a medical check.

"Uh Liz, I don't think you should drive. Is there someone you can call?"

It's Aram who stops her as she passes his desk still holding her side and not yet fully upright. _Is there someone you can call?_ How she would like to have one moment of true honesty and say _yes, but he happens to be hanging in the number four position on that wall over there._

After a breath or two to swallow the lump that rises in her throat, she finally answers him, "Not really, but I'll be fine. Don't worry."

But her friend won't hear of it as he takes her keys out of her hands and walks with her out of the Post Office, throws his bike in the back of her SUV and drives her to the emergency room. She used to have friends, she thinks, or maybe they were just acquaintances she had during her short marriage. It is hard to develop those kinds of relationships in this busy, suspicious city especially with the hours she works.

It doesn't ease the pain of that moment, though. She has always had a solitary nature and simply chalked it up to being an only child. However, today it bothers her and the fact she can't call the one person she wants to is a sad reminder of the state of things.

As the doctor examines her and she waits for her X-ray results, something inside begins to hurt and it has nothing to do with her battered body.

After reassurances that nothing is broken, only a few severely bruised ribs, Aram drives her to her townhouse. All she can think about is taking a pain pill and getting into bed, but as she and Aram walk in the front door she spies a fedora on her dining table and knows it wasn't there that morning.

_Oh boy_ is the first thought and her second is thankfulness he's not asleep on the couch.

"Liz, you want to order take-out or anything?"

"Aram, I don't think so. I just need to lie down, but thank you for everything. I really mean that."

"Oh, ok then, if you're sure. You were awesome today by the way. Wish I had a video of it, but hey I bet I can pull one off a security camera somewhere."

"Don't you dare," she says laughing as she waves him out the door.

When she turns back toward the living room, the house remains strangely quiet until she finally says, "You can come out now."

He walks out from around the corner of the kitchen and she sees the muscle of his jaw working furiously and she tries not to smile. He's not really jealous, or maybe just a little, and she's not in too much pain at the moment to enjoy it, but also just a little.

"Is there something I need to know?"

Well she's not sure if that's in reference to her appearance which has all the markings of being hit by a truck or Aram asking if she wants take-out.

"You should know not to get carried away."

"What in the world happened to you?" as her appearance finally sinks in and he comes to her, taking her by the arms to get a better look.

"I had a run in with a suspect?"

"Did you run into them or was it the other way round?"

"Look, I ran into him from the top of a car I'll have you know and he's in custody as we speak," is her defensive reply. Although by the state of her she supposes it's a fair question.

"From the top of a car? Lizzy, for god's sake, what were you thinking? You could have been hurt!"

"I was hurt, damn it, but I'm fine! Just banged up and don't look at me like that," she says as he's looking at her like that, "There are risks in my job just as there are risks in your…..whatever it is you do."

_Oh boy is right._ She's not even certain where that came from but suddenly there is anger in her words as she sees his jaw clench again.

This has not gone well from the second she walked in and he wishes he could go back and stop acting like a jackass. Perhaps it was hearing her walk in with another man that set him on edge but he has handled this poorly from the get-go.

"You know I'm only concerned about you. I worry and to see you hurt…."

"I hate to break it to you but I worry all the time. Every day, all day. And I guarantee I have greater cause to worry than you."

And with that she turns and begins to gingerly make her way upstairs and wishes she wasn't moving at a snail's pace so her exit could have been more dignified. She hears him follow and within a few steps he catches up and puts an arm around her offering a little support.

"I don't want to fight. I just want to take a pill and go to sleep," she says as they enter the bedroom and she begins undressing, dropping her clothes as she goes.

"We're not going to fight, Lizzy," he says, watching as she finally removes her top and her poor side is already black and blue not to mention the other bruises and scrapes.

He grabs one of his undershirts that she has confiscated and brings it to her. "This looks bad," he says placing a hand at her injured side with barely the whisper of a touch.

As she slips it over her head she tells him of the ER visit and the reason for Aram driving her home. There it is again, that twinge of jealousy, but it is only because he wants to be the one to take her to the emergency room when she leaps off cars and not a friend from work. It's his number he wants her to call when she needs someone and the feeling that comes from the knowledge that she can't make that call when it involves the task force is hard to take at the moment.

"Come get in bed and I'll get you some water."

When he returns she's in bed with a grimace of pain marring her features. With care she turns to take the pain pill before settling down again, however she scoots back from the edge to allow him room to sit next to her. Seeing her intention he does just that, but remains quiet. Simply takes her hand and waits.

"Raymond."

_Here it comes,_ he thinks, knowing she has things to say.

"These last weeks since we came home from Rome have been wonderful, you know that, but what is not wonderful is the constant secrecy. I know it is your life but it hasn't been mine and days like today when I need you but can't call…..and god only knows what would happen if something happened to you, I'd probably never even find out…"

Once again she doesn't know where all this is coming from. She's been well aware of his criminal activities since well before she started flirting with him, but suddenly this situation puts it in perspective. Would he just never come back to her and she'd never know?

"Lizzy, I would never let that happen." but he stops because what can he say? What promises can he really make?

Her eyes are drooping as the medication takes over and he feels her hand going limp in his.

Just as she's drifting off he hears her mumble, "You were a little jealous, admit it."

"Insanely. Go to sleep now."

And she is by the time he kisses her softly on the forehead and tucks the blankets around her.

* * *

He sits by her side for a while and wonders, not for the first time, what the conclusion to this story will be. They are a part of each other now. How is it they can share something so profound, something that brings so much happiness to both and be in constant danger because of it?

He knows the answer even as the thought enters his mind but has no idea what to do about it. It is because of this life he leads and the man he has allowed himself to become. For once Raymond Reddington doesn't have a clue what the next move should be. Looking at her as she sleeps, he realizes the only certainty in his life is this love they share. This one good thing that if found out could destroy them both and her most of all.

* * *

He's in the living room reading, later in the evening, as he hears her coming down the stairs. She was sleeping so soundly he didn't want to disturb her and decided to have dinner prepared if she happened to wake up.

She's a beautiful disaster in her beat up winter robe with her hair piled up and a bruise forming on her left cheek. Really, she's just beautiful and like her friend said before leaving, he'd love to see a video of the leap off the car.

"What are you smiling about?" she asks seeing his expression.

"You leaping off a car," and he's grinning broadly at this point and proud as hell she caught her suspect.

"Oh god. What happened to _you could have been hurt?_ "

"Oh, I'm still annoyed with you but you've been beat up enough today," he says as he gets up and comes to her giving her a soft kiss but not touching any other part of her battered body.

"Come here, I'm not going to break." She pulls him close and feels his arms lightly close around her, just enough but not too tight as he kisses the top of her head.

_What in the world are they going to do?_

The unspoken thought passes between them and neither has an answer.

* * *

It is not until they are in bed later with these thoughts keeping them awake that Liz finally voices the question. It is just a whisper in the darkness.

"Raymond, what are we going to do about all of this?"

There is no immediate answer but she waits knowing he is awake just like herself, with too many worries to let him rest.

"I don't have an answer for that."

"Can't we just disappear? Must you remain Number Four? When is enough enough Raymond, I don't understand why you keep going in this life that will only destroy you. You don't need to do it anymore."

The words come out in a rush and Liz really is realizing how much she has left unsaid all these months. Just wanting to be with him and ignoring everything else until the simple question of _Is there someone you can call_ was posed to her and the only answer she could possibly give right then was _no_.

"It's not that simple, Elizabeth, there are many factors that we have never discussed. Besides, do you think we could ever live freely here in Washington because I would never ask you to give up your profession."

No, he would never ask that and he is right. D.C. is a town of secrets and lies and they will never be free of them as long as they remain here.

"What factors haven't we discussed? Tell me, I want to understand. I've never asked you any questions about what it is you really do."

There is only silence and darkness and words left unspoken.

She is tired and her bruised body needs sleep. As she turns away from him and closes her eyes she whispers the thought that now refuses to leave.

"This can't go on. I can't live with the unknown between us as well as everyone else."

He listens as her breathing evens out and she finally slips into sleep but his eyes scan the darkness long after hers have closed. Why can't he find the words to let her into that part of his life or to attempt to explain some of what he has done these past decades?

Because he doesn't want her there, is the answer. Doesn't want the ugliness of it to touch her and again he has no solution.

He can't live in her world and he won't let her into his.


	16. These Games We Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad there is continued interest in this story following the infamous 4.08. Thanks for reading and for the messages and kudos. Enjoy!

_What in the world are they going to do?_

There is not much said on the topic of the question that is now running through their minds on a daily basis. As the days go by, Liz's bruises fade and things return to normal. Except for the pain that is just under the surface now that they have acknowledged what they cannot have. To really be a part of the other's life as they lead them now and no idea what to do about it.

Finally when she can no longer stand the unspoken between them, she brings the topic back up. They have been sitting at her table reading the Sunday paper as he occasionally calls out crossword hints when she decides to test the waters.

"Raymond, you don't have to tell me all your secrets, I don't even want to know them. I know the _how_ of the story and that is enough, but I don't understand why you seem unable to leave that world. What is it?"

His first instinct is always evasion. It has been that way for so long that anything else seems foreign to him, but looking at her it is impossible to shut her out after what they have been through. What they now mean to one another.

"There are no easy answers, Lizzy. I committed the first act of treason after the cabal nearly killed me and I've committed many since. I'm a criminal and I'm good at it."

"There's more to it than that. What aren't you telling me," she presses, knowing this first response from him is only just a tiny beginning.

The profiler is in her in so astute it shocks him even now. Once again he hesitates as once again he wants her nowhere near any of this. He told her what he had to about the past but speaking of these present horrors is entirely different.

"I've been able through the years to keep tabs, as they say, on the Cabal and at times take out key members of the organization. Only when it was untraceable back to me of course. I've also been able to add to your mother's and my original file on the group as over the years our information became obsolete."

"Are you telling me you have continued to fight the cabal all these years?" she asks in total amazement.

"Lizzy, don't glamorize it. I run a criminal empire and have done things I will never speak of with you. Perhaps I entered that world not having many options but I stayed and I flourished in it. Along the way, yes, I have worked against the Cabal and have gained a vast amount of intelligence on their operation, but my daughter and ex-wife's safety prevent me doing much with it."

She can hear the frustration rising in his voice but the fact that he spoke this openly is a step in the right direction.

"I'm not glamorizing it but don't you sit here and play the heartless criminal when I know that is the furthest thing from the truth. Raymond, I want to see this file you have on them and before you interrupt and say _no_ or make an excuse, remember that this group destroyed my family as well and I have a right to see it."

He closes his mouth to the argument that was forming on his lips and looks at her. The determination written on her face. The fearlessness that once probably flashed across his and Katarina's faces before they were soundly beaten.

"I'll think about it and before you interrupt remember that I'm well aware of the lives destroyed in the process and you mean too much to me to risk something happening to you."

It is her turn to stop the argument she would have made and reaching across the table she takes his hand as she says, "I'm sorry, I know you are aware. Truce?"

He smiles then as some of the tension leaves them.

"Truce."

* * *

They have more conversations but there are no quick decisions as he has learned to proceed very cautiously over the years. She also doesn't push too hard reminding herself he lived the nightmare while she only heard about it. Eventually she will get the file, she has no doubt, but for now she waits.

She no longer asks why he stayed doing the work of Number Four, but feels she has a pretty good idea. In part it was to remain in the criminal world where the Cabal's operatives lived and he could, as he said, work against them. Part of it relates to his brilliant mind for strategy and building that empire fed the need to keep that mind active and distracted from his former life. That he chose to do those things of which he will never speak in this underworld tells her he doesn't feel deserving of much else.

Lizzy will occasionally remind him there is more to him than the criminal although she's not sure he believes it. He doesn't comment and changes the subject and she lets him, but she hopes he will begin to see a life beyond the one he lives.

When she thinks of Raymond leaving that world behind, she thinks of her own. The double life she has led for months has caught up with her and gives her no peace.

_...without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion…_

The oath she took the day she joined the academy and the one she has broken everyday since the surveillance op. She wonders if it puts her fellow agents at risk or perhaps will one day. If there were a choice to make between the agency and Raymond, which would she choose? If they were suddenly found out how that situation might play out.

She keeps these thoughts to herself for now as Raymond does the same. Otherwise their time together is as it has always been. Small steps forward, figuring it out as they go with no destination in mind, just as they have always done.

* * *

He is rustling around the dark bedroom trying not to wake her when he wakes her anyway with a muffled oath.

_Damn._

She switches on the light and stifles a laugh seeing him balanced on one leg trying to put on a sock.

"That's a cute dance you're doing," she says smiling.

"I didn't want to wake you but I banged my damn hand in the dark."

"Come here." She sits up in bed and waits for him to sit beside her. "Is this better" she asks taking his hand and brushing a kiss across his fingers.

"Absolutely, except it was the other one," he says smiling now.

"How about now?" as she brings the other hand to her lips.

"We're getting there," and quickly too as she moves forward to give him a rather sensational kiss for so early in the morning.

"Mmmm Lizzy, you know I have an early trip. You're not playing fair," as she runs her hands up his sides lifting his undershirt as she goes. "And can you leave me with one of these as you've stolen all the rest?"

"But this one smells like you and you're leaving me," she whispers against his neck where she has started kissing him to distraction. The feel of her breath on his skin sending a jolt through his body.

He reciprocates by snaking his hands under hers and lifting it off in one quick motion.

"Now who's not playing fair," she asks moving closer to him, loving the feel of him against her as he runs his hands down her back.

"Just evening up the score. But Lizzy, seriously, I have a jet waiting," he murmurs with no sign he is quitting the game and in fact has advanced the move laying her back on the bed as her legs wrap around him ensuring he will indeed be running late this morning.

"You own the jet, Raymond."

God, she feels so good he couldn't leave now if he tried. The jet, the meeting, everything be damned.

"I give up, you win," as he trails kisses down her neck and feels her arch into him.

"I intended to," and his low chuckle against her body brings a smile for this little victory.

* * *

She is dozing when he comes to kiss her good-bye, headed out the door for real this time. Dropping a kiss on her shoulder earns him a sigh and one on her neck another. He hates to leave her and is tempted to call the whole trip off and climb right back in bed and fall asleep tangled up with her.

Raymond sighs himself as the meeting is an important one, but he intends to wrap it as quickly as possible. It is becoming harder and harder to be away. He thinks about coming home to her and reluctantly turns toward the door.

They'll have more time together, he'll make sure of it.

He just doesn't realize time is running out and this will be the last game for a very long time.


	17. The Road Ahead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation._  
>  —Khalil Gibran

He is on the jet a day later flying home to Lizzy when the call comes through on his satellite phone. It's Mr. Kaplan and the worry in her normally controlled voice has Raymond sitting up straighter waiting for the bad news. Something has happened.

There was an explosion, the yacht destroyed at sea. His name on the list of those killed and his competitors scrambling to seize control of his interests as well as those on the yacht. All hell breaking loose and why the hell wasn't he on board?

"You were clearly seen boarding the yacht Raymond. Explain," is her terse conclusion to the shocking news.

"I left the meeting early. Radio'd Edward who took us off the yacht by chopper."

"Well I need to get word out before all of your territories are seized. At this moment everyone thinks you're at the bottom of the ocean."

Red has known many close calls before and the sinking feeling that accompanies them has found him again. That feeling of being off balance at the edge of a cliff and one false move could lead to safety or a violent end.

How long after they left did it happen? Long enough for them to land at the airfield and board his jet. A private landing strip he maintains and no one to see. All the pieces on the chessboard lining up perfectly to….

"Raymond, are you there? We need to take action now to ensure the safety of your business interests."

Still his mind is racing, going through the possibilities, the moves and countermoves that could possibly make this work. Does he even want this to work?

Damn right he does and telling Kate to hold one moment, he has one of the most important conversations in his life with Dembe. This will affect him too, and if he is not in agreement then there will be no going forward.

"I told you once Raymond that this was fate. It is time you listened to it when it speaks your name."

"You are right, my friend," he says, bringing the phone to his ear once more to set things in motion.

Just before ending the call that will put an end to his life he makes one request.

_Get word to her somehow, Kate. I can't take the risk of calling if this is to succeed, but get word to her please._

* * *

Liz and Samar are just returning to the Post Office late in the afternoon after a day spent following up on a case when they see a group gathered around Aram's desk, all trying to look over his shoulder. He is working furiously at his laptop doing that thing he does and as they approach a few fellow agents spot them and wave them over.

_Have you heard? Looks like we'll finally be getting a new number four._

Liz stops in her tracks but with the attention centered around Aram no one notices the blood draining from her face or hears the sound of her heart beating loud in her chest.

How did they find him? Captured after all these years? Where? How?

Until what happens next stops her heart entirely.

"Okay, here is the security footage from the marina as well as the footage from the rescue helicopter. It definitely appears unsurvivable," Aram says as the footage is displayed on the screens overhead and all eyes shift upward.

The image of a marina comes on first and it is surprisingly good quality. A woman and what appears to be two bodyguards board a vessel docked at the end of the pier. She is followed by two additional men and their associates who do the same. Finally, she sees him. Raymond in his trademark fedora and a heavy coat. With the collar turned up against the winter wind and the sunglasses he appears wholly unchanged from the wanted poster image. Walking beside him is Dembe and they are the last to board the vessel.

The footage cuts to another angle, this one giving a larger view of the bay. The small boat is seen docking with a large yacht anchored just offshore and they all board and enter the cabin. After several minutes the yacht begins to move and Aram advances it until it sails out of the camera's range.

Gasps are heard around the room as the footage cuts to the rescue chopper's camera but there is clearly nothing to rescue. Just bits of burning debris floating on the surface of the water is all that remains of the destroyed yacht. There is no footage of the explosion itself, only reports from a few boats in the area of a massive fireball on the horizon. Lizzy is shocked she doesn't feel the impact from here as the explosion erupts in her mind. It is clear looking at the footage, whoever arranged this meant there to be total destruction and they succeeded.

_Unsurvivable._

The rest is a blur as she enters her office, placing some file neatly on the desk. The shaking of her hand and paleness of her face the only indication of the turmoil within.

"Did you hear about Reddington, Keen? Surprised it took this long really."

It is Ressler passing by and offering a short response that she is heading home for the day makes her way to the elevator. There is not much work going on as everyone is focused on this shocking development and Liz can't hang on much longer.

She is perfectly calm walking from the war room to the parking garage. She is fine driving from the premises to a point several miles away. Far enough that the closed surveillance that surrounds the blacksite is behind her. Pulling onto a side street affording some privacy, Lizzy leans over the steering wheel and weeps.

There are very few thoughts that enter her mind in that moment as the grief consumes her. Wave after wave hits her and she is powerless to stop it. How long she remains hunched over the wheel she has no idea as her world falls apart. It is not until the text alert sounds that she raises her head and fights to steady her breathing. Picking up the phone and hoping desperately it isn't work, she sees _Unknown Caller_ displayed followed by the message.

_All is well._

She can't even process the words before another message appears.

_Trust me. I am a friend._

"Oh my god," as another message appears.

_What is your location?_

Her hands are shaking so violently now she can hardly hold onto the phone. She looks up and around the street expecting what she hardly knows, until another buzz brings her eyes back to the phone.

_Elizabeth, trust me. What is your location?_

And throwing caution to the winds Liz types a response and waits. Closes her eyes and repeats the words over and over hanging onto them like a lifeline. _All is well._

* * *

Liz sees the car pull next to hers from her peripheral vision. The driver, an unassuming woman in business attire and glasses, glances at her once then turns facing forward. Thinking this may be the only sign she receives, Liz takes in a breath and slips from her vehicle and climbs into the waiting car.

They are immediately on their way and have traveled several miles as the woman consistently checks the rearview mirror and utilizes evasive tactics as they pass out of the city. Lizzy doesn't say a word feeling she will be informed what she needs to know when the time is right. She is still so shaken she thinks of nothing but what she hopes is waiting for her at the end of this bizarre journey.

"Elizabeth, I am Mr. Kaplan. I have been charged with bringing you to my employer. He is waiting for you."

"Raymond…"

She can't finish as her voice simply won't allow, but the emotion in the one word earns her a sympathetic look.

"Yes, dearie. _Raymond_."

They drive for two hours without stopping. Liz has no idea where and doesn't care as she is overwhelmed by the day's events. Never much of a crier she finds it difficult to stop as the tears silently fall. Mr. Kaplan never says a word, simply hands her a small packet of tissues from the center console. Liz wonders briefly if she had them at the ready just in case and honestly it wouldn't surprise her.

By the time they reach their destination the tears have ceased, replaced by an anxiousness to get to him. To believe Raymond really wasn't part of the nightmare she saw on the surveillance footage. They are in the country now and after turning down a long drive, the car stops in front of a lovely old estate house. It is dark except for a single light visible to her and she thinks that's all they need to make it through this together. Just one light.

"Go through the front door and turn right. He's waiting for you."

Liz offers a _thank you_ and enters the house, turns right and he's there. Pacing back and forth, lost in thought and not even hearing the car or her entrance until he looks up and sees her. Like the night of the auction. Turning toward the door after the exchange of information, she was there and he was lost, just as he is now.

They walk to each other and he enfolds her in his arms. She hears the quiet _shhhh_ as he feels her body tremble but he is trembling as well so she moves closer and they hold on tighter. Neither speaking because for now there are simply no words.

After a time and when he feels his voice is strong enough, he says, "Lizzy, I'm so sorry we couldn't reach you in time. I would never have you think-"

Stopping with a shake of his head as he thinks what she has been through that day. The tears she has shed plainly written on her face as she grieved for him and never has he felt so unworthy of her love.

"Come, we need to talk."

He leads her to the couch and when they sit facing each other, they alternate between holding a hand or the touch of an arm. Something, anything to maintain contact.

"I don't understand what's happening—"

But he interrupts her because they have precious little time and there are important things to say. "Lizzy, I assume you saw the footage by now," and at the nod of her head continues, "I boarded the boat but left shortly after. Called my pilot, and Dembe and I left by helicopter."

"But why did you leave? I don't understand," she can't help but ask the question.

"It was a meeting to negotiate new territories and as we started the discussion…"

He trails off and she prompts him to continue. "Did something happen? Tell me, please."

"Nothing happened, nothing at all as a matter of fact. I suddenly didn't care about the negotiations, didn't care about any of it so I left to come home to you," is the simple response and it saved his life. Any life he has left to live is because of her.

"Oh Raymond…"

"I know, Lizzy, but we don't have much time," he says and because he needs all his strength to get through this he concentrates on the next move and the next after that and not the devastation on her face. "Did you see footage of us climbing on board?"

She nods again and he exhales a breath, "Good, that should help. Listen to me carefully. I died today," and as she starts at hearing his words, he shakes his head. "No Lizzy, I died today. This is the only way. Today, this very moment, walking away is my only chance or I'll never break free."

"I'm coming with you—"

"No, you're not. I can't ask that of you. You don't know what you'd be giving up."

"Raymond, you need to listen to me. I love you and I'm not giving _you_ up," she says as the tears find her again.

She breaks his heart and he gathers her to him needing to feel her in his arms just once more.

"I don't even know if this will work. There are simply too many variables, too many unknowns right now. Were we seen leaving the yacht or have we been seen since? I won't know for quite a while if this is possible."

"When you know, I will come to you and we'll disappear. Pick a spot on the map and go there and see what happens," and she pulls back to look him in the eyes. Needing him to see her certainty and needing to see his resolve waver.

"I can't ask you to give up your life, the FBI—"

"There is more to my life than the FBI. There is more that I can do and it doesn't have to be in Washington. This is our life," as she takes both of his hands in her own, "so stop arguing and tell me what we need to do."

His voice leaves him again as he swallows a few times. Perhaps he doesn't deserve her and perhaps he doesn't deserve this second chance if that's what this is, but looking into her eyes he takes it. Damn it all to hell he is taking it.

"Lizzy, I only ask one thing."

"Okay, let's have it," she says prepared for any argument that comes.

"We wait until I'm certain that this has worked. My business activities will cease today as Dembe and I are going underground. For months probably and Mr. Kaplan will keep up the appearance of a loyal employee carrying out her employer's final instructions. My personal holdings are untraceable and she will deal with those for the time being. My old life is over, Elizabeth. There can never be a return to anything familiar. After that, if you still want—"

But he can't finish the sentence. Can't imagine why she would want…

The flash of doubt in his eyes is not lost on her and before he can go too far away from her she brings him back with her words, "You have to trust that I will still want our life together. Promise me you will let me make that choice and not make it for me. Promise me now before you go."

He takes his time considering her words and the solemness with which she spoke them until, at last, he makes a vow.

"I promise you the decision will be yours. Mr. Kaplan will check in from time to time and she will call when the time is right and safe for you to come to me. I ask in return that you really think about this, Lizzy. Think of all that you will be giving up. Promise me you won't make a hasty decision."

It is her turn to hear his request and returns it with a vow of her own.

"I promise."

This stolen moment is all they have. Mr. Kaplan is waiting to drive Lizzy back to D.C. and Red is leaving for a safehouse where he will remain in seclusion for who knows how long. This is all they have and all they may ever have going forward.

They whisper words that should only be heard between the hearts involved, and they make more promises that each will carry with them on their separate journeys. He cradles her tear stained face in his hands committing every detail to memory like he has done a thousand times. She places her hand over his heart wanting to feel it race just for her like she has done so many times before. When he kisses her he can taste the salt of her tears and she feels the tremble of his body. At last they pull back and give a simple nod of the head. They are ready.

It is time for her to leave but before she goes one last time….

"Who will you be when I see you again?"

There it is, the whisper of a smile on his face. That's all she needs to give her the strength to walk out the door.

"Lizzy, as it happens, I've been saving this one just in case I ever made a permanent change. Vincent Perry, the pleasure is all mine," as he kisses her hand in this game they play.

" _Dark Passage,_ of course. Very appropriate under these current circumstances," she whispers before he leans in to brush her lips with his, keeping her there with him before the worry takes over.

"Yes, very appropriate, and I think a good one for the long haul. I changed the spelling so a google search won't give away a clue. It will be alright, Elizabeth."

He is talking about more than the alias and she wants to leave him with a good memory so she gives his hand a squeeze before continuing.

"It's perfect Raymond…..Raymond? But what will I call you? That is who you are to me and-"

But he silences her concern as he says, "I will always be Raymond to you. Vincent needs a middle name after all."

She relaxes knowing at least this one thing she can hold on to.

"I can live with that," but as the thought crosses her mind she asks, "Will I have to change my name, too, do you think?"

"There is no need. You're not a fugitive after all. Besides you will always be Elizabeth to me, I can only handle so much change at once," he says smiling and it reaches his eyes this time.

This is enough for them. She returns the smile and leans in to kiss him trying to convey all that she feels but of course he knows. He already knows because in this they are the same.

When she reaches the door, she turns back once more to say, "Don't change anything about your appearance. Don't grow your hair longer or you'll look like the wanted poster. Stay like you are and you'll be less recognizable alright."

He chuckles at that. His smart as hell Lizzy and he has never loved her more.

"Lizzy, I love it when you aid and abet."

With a roll of her eyes she is gone. She meets Mr. Kaplan out front and is grateful Dembe is there, too. Lizzy approaches the man who she has only met a few times but knows the bond he shares with Raymond. He is somewhat taken aback as she hugs him and her words hold great meaning to him.

"Thank you. He would not do this if you hadn't been willing. I have no words, but thank you Dembe,' she says to the man who is also presumed dead and will have to stay that way in order to let Raymond escape. Perhaps it is an escape for him, too, but for whatever reason, she is grateful.

"You are welcome, Elizabeth, but who am I to argue with fate?"

These words play over and over in her mind as she thinks of all that has come before. Not just this day but all the events that transpired so their paths would cross and merge into one. Be it fate or chance she is thankful for it and would not have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Shoutout to Mr Kaplan who will always be fantastic no matter what the writers throw at her.
> 
> Also shoutout to my favorite Bogart and Bacall film _Dark Passage,_ the story of an innocent man unable to clear his name who flees with the woman he loves. A perfect final alias I think.


	18. With Tears And A Journey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and enjoy!

Liz arrives back at her car late that night and with a _you will be hearing from me_ from Mr. Kaplan she is on her own. Just as she was before she walked through the door to a gala looking for a target and her world was changed forever.

She returns to the empty townhouse and heads straight to bed, dropping her clothes as she goes. If she can get through this night then she can get through the others to come. Her exhausted mind and body need rest and she sleeps soundly, rising the next day to go to work as usual. And the day after that and the day after that.

No change in her routine, nothing to give a clue to anyone that anything unusual has happened. She is proud of herself for this if nothing else and knows he would be as well. This separation will not be spent in tears and during the day they are pushed back as she goes about the business at hand, but sometimes at night they come and she lets them. Lets the dam break and she feels stronger for them knowing they do not control her.

Two weeks and four days after the explosion, Raymond Reddington is declared dead and Liz steps out of her office to watch the number four poster be replaced by another criminal. The poster that never changed positions and the one that caught her eye her first day at Quantico to begin her training as an FBI agent. The same day she took the oath as it turns out.

_….without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion…._

The decision is made and has been since the day she chose to let him go free. It was only a matter of time. She returns to her office and types up her formal letter of resignation and stores it in her briefcase. That evening she places it next to the painting of the storm tossed coast and there it remains for fourteen days as she thinks about this decision, honoring the vow she made.

On the fifteenth day she gives it to Director Cooper and it is done. Explaining her decision as best she can but he understands. It is a difficult life and Agent Keen is not the first to leave and she won't be the last. The tears find her that night and she lets them but she has no regrets. There is still much for her to do and she will figure it out as it comes.

A week later they give her a send off at a local pub and it is Samar she tells of the honor it has been, Aram she thanks sincerely for the friendship and Cooper who makes her tear up during his good-bye speech with stories of a spy ring she captured and most recently the leap off a car. The latter accompanied by a video Aram managed to scrounge up to play on his laptop brought for the occasion.

The tears do not find her that night as she is proud of the work she did and the anxiousness to move on is what is driving her now.

* * *

There is a house in the country, in a country that won't be named. It is secluded from the road and all prying eyes which is why it was chosen. Not overly large but roomy enough that two friends have enough space not to step on too many nerves in this forced seclusion. The grounds are mostly wooded but there are walking paths and a lake nearby that keep the claustrophobia at bay.

The men are different in nature and one finds the peace and quiet rather restful and embraces it enthusiastically. The other battles a restlessness as the longing for one not with him grows. His companion tells him frequently he must find the peace within if he is ever to know it in the world.

Sometimes these bits of wisdom are appreciated and sometimes with a roll of his eyes he heads to the kitchen where the clattering sounds of a chef at work will be heard for hours to come.

After more than a month a woman arrives with supplies and information, but also to receive instructions on what tasks should be accomplished next. It seems a competitor planted the bomb and has already been dealt with. There is no link to the Cabal that she can find and those that remain in witness protection are still safe. The news of their official deaths were met with smiles and the popping of a champagne cork. Still early days to make sure they are well and truly dead but a nice start to the afterlife.

He is told of her safety and her resignation from the agency. That she waited weeks to do it pleases him knowing she took the promise seriously.

"I think it's safe to call her, Kate. Tell her…..tell her…"

He is overwhelmed but Mr. Kaplan knows just the words to say, "I'll tell her _all is well_. She will understand."

* * *

Lizzy hangs up the phone and breathes a sigh of relief. _All is well_ and she understands completely. He is safe. That is enough for her to go on. It's a waiting game now but time to get her life in order for the next round.

It is amazing how little you really need in life when making plans to run away. So much clutter filling her house and suddenly none of it matters. Liz designates one suitcase to store the treasures from her life that will go with her to the next. Over the next few weeks as the house is packed up and a _For Sale_ sign is placed in front these keepsakes begin making their way in.

The painting that means so much to her now, lovingly wrapped to protect it until it can be hung in their home one day. Her degrees that will find a use somewhere although she knows not how just yet. Two worn pictures of a family she doesn't remember and a locket given to a daughter by her father. Pictures of her own father and the family of two they became. The watch he always wore and the earrings he bought her on her sixteenth birthday. When the suitcase is full she places one last item in before it is taken to a secure storage facility for safe keeping until the time is right that she can claim it. A small stuffed bunny with a funny rip down the center that was lovingly if crudely sewn back together by her father after he learned of its secrets.

Her home sells surprisingly quickly as she accepts the first offer. They are a young couple just starting out and their somewhat low offer is all they can afford. Over the objections of her agent to wait, Liz accepts it and hopes they will be happy there as she was for a time. The furnishings go with it and everything else is donated to a charity she finds.

She is free and on the day the papers are signed and a few boxes and one special suit case have been stored away, she boards a plane for London to keep another promise she made. One to her father when he knew his days were few. That she would take a portion of what he was leaving her and simply have fun. _All work and no play ain't no way to live, Lizzy. Promise you'll do something outrageous and think of me._

The current state of her life is incredibly outrageous, she thinks, but this promise she intends to keep. This last gift of a father to his daughter.

* * *

"What do you mean she's traveling," he asks somewhat surprised at the information.

"Just what I said, she is traveling. I make contact every week or so. She said there are places she wants to see and this seems like the best time," Mr. Kaplan replies in her matter of fact way.

He laughs at the news and admires her spunk and asks for details of her travels so he may picture her walking down an avenue or admiring a beautiful vista. He wishes like hell he could be with her but he has made many solitary journeys through the years and they do the heart good sometimes.

"Tell her to buy me a postcard from each stop."

* * *

There is no plan to these travels, they are simply the places one always says they should visit one day. She wishes he were there to share it with but not knowing if he will be able to make these journeys in the future spurs her on. London to Amsterdam to Berlin to Barcelona. There is no hurry though. When the time seems right she picks the next destination and sets out.

She backtracks to the east for a while then back again before flying to New York from Edinburgh.

Some would call it running but in truth she feels like she is finding herself. She feels a sense of contentment returning that hasn't been there in a very long time. Not even when he came into her life. There was too much risk hanging over her for that to occur, but now she knows she can at least find peace on her own even as she waits for the call letting her know he is waiting.

Picking up her car in Washington she decides to make a last drive to Cape May, the place she lost herself for a time. He won't be there to find her now, but there is no need. As she stands at the water's edge, she no longer waits for answers that will never come. Simply thinks of a mother that also lost herself when those that tried to help her were too late.

Liz finds that she enjoyed the drive having not been behind the wheel in quite a while and turning the car toward the setting sun, she picks a new destination. There is a stop in Nebraska and a drive by the house she grew up in. A visit to a grave one last time as she whispers the names of the places she has seen and tells him she's being outrageous. She closes her eyes and hopes he hears her. With a visit to the few relatives that are all that's left of this small family, she says goodbye to this childhood home forever. The tears come back and she lets them fall all the way to the state line as she continues westward not stopping till she reaches the Pacific.

There are times that the longing for him is hard to bear. Standing at the edge of this vast ocean she wonders where he is at that moment. Is he thinking of her just then? Is he closer to the west or behind her to the east? She lets the wind wash over her as there are no answers and waits.

* * *

"California? Driving the whole way? She's going to circle the globe before I can leave this damn place," he says as the frustration is building.

"You need to have patience. We said four months minimum and that is only a few more weeks. This is working and you're not going to mess it up now," Mr. Kaplan replies in the usual calm manner.

The restlessness is growing and she can't really blame him but the plan has succeeded, as implausible as it seems. His business interests gone without a whisper or rumor that she can discern of any suspicion. Raymond Reddington is dead and she plans to keep it that way.

"When she returns from Japan we will have a serious discussion about a rendezvous, but until then you will sit tight."

"Japan! Kate for god's sake you have got to get me out of here!"

* * *

She has made her way to Alaska by way of Canada when the call comes through. She assumes it is Mr. Kaplan just checking in and doesn't understand her words the first time.

"It is time, Elizabeth," she repeats and waits as the words sink in.

"Are you sure it's-"

"We will speak in person. Where shall I meet you?" is the terse reply not wanting any extra communication over the phone.

"I'll be in New York within the week."

Liz donates her car to a local charity, boards a plane and lands in New York to wait until Mr. Kaplan makes contact. For the first time in months she will not pick the next stop and the unknown added to who will be waiting for her makes the nervous energy return and she can hardly wait.

She spends a fews days back in her favorite hotel, in her favorite neighborhood and she needs this little break. Needs a rest and to perhaps say goodbye to this city she loves. Maybe she will make it back this way again, but there are no guarantees. Her eyes are focused down the road again and that's all that matters now. When that nervous energy overwhelms she walks the city and once passes by an understated pre-war building where a bad idea became a dangerous idea. Smiling at the memory on her walk back, she hears her phone buzz with the latest message.

_Hotel bar_

* * *

"Port Elizabeth? How incredibly subtle," Liz says but she can't help but laugh.

This earns her a smile from Mr. Kaplan who quickly gets back to business. "He's been there for two weeks as I couldn't keep him prisoner any longer. He is moving about now but keeping to the smaller neighborhoods and very anxious for you to join him, Elizabeth."

"When can I leave? What should I do about my belongings in Washington? Do you think it's completely safe for him or-"

Her questions tumble out in a rush until Mr. Kaplan places a hand on her arm, "Leave it to me, dearie. I have your ticket booked and you leave tomorrow. That's all you need to worry about."

Liz takes a breath and lets all the worry leave her. She thinks of nothing but the man waiting for her at the tip of a continent and finally it is time.

* * *

Down at the edge of that continent there is a house close to the water. Not so secluded this time for a first step back into the world of the living. He makes his way to the local markets and picks up a few things to replace the three piece suits that were the uniform of his former life.

He wasn't able to find the peace those many months in seclusion but here and knowing she is coming he finds it waiting for him. Unbelievable that after his previous life he could feel anything close to it.

As he walks along the beach he sometimes turns his face in a northwesterly direction. Odd considering the ocean is behind him then, but that is the direction she is coming from. That is the direction of his future and he can hardly wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Liz may have ended up doing a lot more traveling than I originally intended but I didn't want her sitting at home. She deserves an adventure.


	19. Endgame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I again want to say thanks for reading, the kind messages and the kudos. They mean so much. Also thank you to TravelingSong for all the help and encouragement along the way. I didn't begin writing until after the close of season 3 so this was a way to go back to that s1 vibe and just have some fun and let these kids be happy in the end. I loved every minute writing this fic and I hope you enjoy it as well. Cheers!

He's not waiting at the airport for her and she doesn't look for him. Her instructions from Mr. Kaplan are to take a cab to the address she provided and he will be waiting. They can't take a chance having him caught on camera using facial recognition software at a major airport.

 _It's better this way._ Time to calm her nerves somewhat and this is not a reunion for a crowded airport. Their relationship was private, out of necessity, of course, but it has always been just the two of them. She places a hand at her stomach trying to steady her breathing as the nervous tension settles there.

There is no doubt or regret that enters her mind. Just wanting a return of what they had before without the fear pressing in. She worries things won't be the same or they will struggle to adapt. Worries about so many things she didn't contemplate these past months as she traveled, keeping her eyes on the road ahead, but the end of it is arriving now as the cab pulls to a stop.

* * *

Not knowing how long it will take her to clear customs or travel the distance to the outskirts of the city, he finally walks down to the beach as the house will no longer contain his apprehension. Anxious to see her but the fear that something will prevent it takes hold and won't let go.

He held onto this moment during his months in seclusion and also struggled to believe in the possibility of it. No longer dreams of much in this world except her and the two of them together. It is what brought him to this place.

This is all he needs. To live the rest of his days in peace and Elizabeth at his side.

* * *

There is no answer to her knock so she tries the door and finding it unlocked she enters the small beach house, thinks perhaps they should talk about tighter security and smiles as she walks through to the living room. It is simply furnished, comfortable but there is no permanence to it. A temporary respite until they move on, however, for the time being she thinks it is perfect.

Walking out to the back deck she finally sees him down by the water. She'd hardly recognize him though as his outward appearance is so different. The dark wool suit and fedora replaced by light, loose linen. Pants rolled up as he lets the water wash over his bare feet. The white shirt untucked, sleeves rolled and _damn_ is her first impression just as it was all those months ago seeing him for the first time.

She had wondered what it would be like to see him like this and it is more than she imagined. Not just the physical pull that is as it has always been but because the armor is gone. The weight of what he carried on his shoulders no longer visible to her as she watches him in this private moment. There is a peace about him she notices immediately.

As if pulled by something greater than themselves, he seems to sense her presence and turns to see her watching him.

* * *

She takes his breath away. Every time the same. He begins walking toward her just as he did the night of the gala and a vague sense of déjà vu finds him. Like coming home and knowing he will never leave again.

When he reaches her on the deck, she realizes she never started walking toward him, just stayed rooted to the spot. Doesn't feel the tear that escaped until he wipes it from her cheek. She reaches out and brushes her hand along the side of his head and she is the first to break the silence.

"You kept it short," indicating his hair that he kept closely cropped, heeding her previous advice.

He smiles reaching out to run a few strands of hers through his fingers. "You've let yours grow," is his reply as he leans down to kiss her soft as a whisper.

A sigh escapes at his gentleness and the softness of his lips on hers. He gathers her to him then and they hold on, desperate for each other but also desperate for this simple embrace. When he pulls back to cradle her face, as he did the last time he saw her needing to memorize every detail, he sees the same look in her eyes. The love that sustained him during the dark passage from his old life to this fledgling new one.

"I have never loved you more than at this moment, Elizabeth," he whispers the words loud enough for her to hear before the wind takes them.

She never doubted his love, not once, but his first time really saying the words to her washes away all the loneliness of the past months.

"Raymond, I've missed you," is her soft reply.

There it is. His name on her lips and nothing has ever sounded sweeter. This one true thing he can hang onto as he struggles with the permanence of his last chosen alias. At least between them they are who they always were.

When he kisses her again, deeper this time, she greets it with all the yearning she has carried with her. Just like their first kiss they are mindless to everything but each other as the wind whips around and the waves break nearby.

* * *

They take their time, not wanting to rush. Wanting to savor this moment they have waited months to reach. He shows her the house where they will stay these first weeks. They settle on the sofa awhile and talk about the house in the woods and her travels. He lets her unpack in their room and prepares dinner as she showers wanting to freshen up after her long flight. There are flowers on her bedside table, a little touch he provided to the simple decor of the room and she smiles toward the sound of the clattering pots in the kitchen.

She walks out a little later to see him putting a record on the turntable and can't get over this new casual version as she watches him. It is a damn fine sight, she thinks, and just then he turns and it is the same for him. With her hair soft around her shoulders and a simple dress she is beautiful, plus bare feet to match his own and she is perfect.

Of course the album is Ella and Louis as a reminder of New York and she teases that he is a romantic bringing the album with him on his journey.

"Are you going to help a little or do I have to do all the work," he says with a smile as he walks to her.

"Shall we?" he asks, drawing her close into a dance.

_Together we're going a long, long way…._

The last time they listened to this song together they were half a world away surrounded by risk and fear of a _bad idea,_ yet here they are at the edge of a continent having left that world behind.

They forget everything but each other and the music and when she kisses him this time the longing they have felt these months is there in an instant. She feels like she's on that wave again and remembers a time she wondered if she let it, where she would end up. Here is the answer as she trails a kiss along his jaw and whispers _ask me to go home with you, Raymond._

He chuckles at the memory of her words to him that night at the speakeasy.

_We are home, Lizzy._

There is no stopping the wave now as Ella and Louis serenade them on the way to the bedroom.

"Hey, I didn't even get dinner," she teases unbuttoning his shirt to run her hands along his chest.

He has found the zipper on her dress and it falls in one quick motion as he inches her toward the bed. "Lizzy, you know good and well you started it this time," he says with that devilish smile that still sends a charge throughout her body.

The rest of the layers go quickly as well as any thought of dinner or anything else for that matter.

When he lays her back, she reaches for him wanting to feel the weight of him on her, but he holds back drinking her in. Taking in every last detail remembering those long nights of missing her as the oppression of that house hidden in the woods bore into him. She is just as he remembers but lovelier still as she flushes under his gaze.

Her impatience is growing and he joins her for this is what thrills them, when the barriers are gone with nothing separating them and they are alone in the world. Their bodies come alive as their hands move across the other. It feels like a new discovery after so long an absence but this is a dance they know very well. Their bodies remember and respond with a deeper connection than they have ever known.

This long journey bringing them further than each could have imagined as their need for the other builds and they fall over the edge as one.

* * *

They stay in the small cottage several months, venturing out little by little and grateful for the passing of time as they get further away from their former lives. After a while Mr. Kaplan makes an appearance and it is as they have hoped. Raymond Reddington has slipped into history and there are no rumors to be had to the contrary.

His daughter and ex-wife remain unharmed and this really doesn't surprise him. There is nothing to be gained by hurting them now that he is dead. They are safe and the pain that enters his eyes is not missed by either woman who know him so well. Any small hope that he maintained of someday seeing her is gone now. It will never be. This is what it takes to keep her safe. This is what it takes to survive. Lizzy can only offer a hand in his for there are no words to ease this old wound that will always ache.

Mr. Kaplan leaves behind the file on the cabal, brought at his request. This one last link to their former lives and one that weighs on them. He was limited in what he could do while alive, but perhaps now….

As the weeks go by Lizzy begins the task of sorting the information that spans decades. Peeling away the layers and discarding what is no longer of use. More stripped away as they meticulously discard what can be traced to Raymond in any way. They must proceed with caution in order to protect Carla and Jennifer.

It is difficult for him to wade through this past life and she spares him the burden as much as possible. Perhaps in this small way she will finally know her work with the FBI is complete and she made a difference.

There is a special file she keeps on Raymond's former partner who is now the director of clandestine services. The man whose betrayal cost all of them their lives. The evidence against him is astonishing containing both a paper trail of corruption and also including video and audio surveillance.

He will be the first to fall, she decides, and the rest will topple as they may. On the day every major news organization in the world receives a flash drive detailing the Cabal's many crimes is the day Raymond comes to her on the beach and informs her Peter chose the same fate as her mother in order to avoid imprisonment. The evidence too overwhelming for the Cabal to simply cover up.

She stares out at the water but makes no response and ponders how fate works in mysterious ways. Perhaps his was sealed all those years ago with an act of betrayal that cost them so much.

A week later Agent Aram Mojtabai receives an anonymous package containing the rest of the file that Liz has organized, making a few connections that even Raymond missed. It is all they can do now. Pass it to those she trusts. She includes a note hopeful they are doing the right thing.

_Agent Mojtabai,_

_The information you will find enclosed has been the means of the destruction of countless lives. This cannot be overstated. By now you are aware of an organization known as The Cabal. Information detailing this group's many crimes was leaked to the press in order to ensure your safety. This is the completion of the file. We are entrusting it with you in hopes it will aid your task force and those of the many nations involved in dismantling this organization once and for all. Use it well._

_Sincerely,_

_A Friend_

* * *

They are done with the past and as the days pass realize this temporary home has served its purpose. Raymond asks her one morning not long after what would have been her next destination if Mr. Kaplan hadn't called when she did. Her answer is New Zealand and surprisingly he has never been.

And suddenly they are ready to go and anxious to find where they will settle down. Not knowing yet where that will be, but it is time.

* * *

They share the same last name now and have landed in a small coastal town, not too big and not too small, but just the right size for a couple of expats looking for the quiet life. Turns out Lizzy's next trip was just where they wanted to be and so they stayed.

Their house is on the water with a beautiful view of their stretch of beach they walk to everyday. He has returned to the sea all these years after a detour led him away and the tentative peace he found after coming back to life has followed him here. The ocean calms the restlessness in their souls and they find comfort in it in different ways. It was what he loved first and to live on its shores is a homecoming. For Lizzy, there is a mystery to its depths as she recalls seeking answers from it the day she lost herself. The answers that never really came but she has survived. The breaking of the waves a constant reminder that they have endured.

They kept to themselves for quite a while before relaxing enough to let others into their world. There are many like themselves there. Other wanderers who were passing through but decided this stretch of beach seemed like home and decided to stay. So there is a small group of friends that come and go and no one cares where they started from, only where they ended up.

There are other friends as well. Old friends from a former life that come to call every now and then. One that sacrificed his own life to give them this chance. The other who sees to it that these two remain sheltered from prying eyes. She brought Lizzy's treasures to her from Washington and also a few of Raymond's as well. His first editions and special albums. Several pieces of art. The few pictures he has of his child that is forever lost to him. Not much remains of their old lives as the layers were stripped away but the few that make it to this new home are what matter most.

Slowly everything else falls away. One by one his properties and safe houses are disposed of. The art and antiques housed there catalogued for his perusal but most of it goes. Sold or donated to museums as he sees fit. Liz doesn't comment on the vastness of these collections knowing he surrounded himself with beauty in that former life in order to cope with its ugliness.

He spends his days reading, cooking outlandish meals for her and often for friends. There is a small garden at the side of the house sheltered from the wind that he tends. The three-piece suits are gone and the fedoras rarely make it out of the closet instead opting for a favorite straw hat made by a local. This man who spent decades on the run to the far reaches of the world is quite content to remain on his beach and to explore this island they call home.

She volunteers at a local school but is always cautious not to draw attention. There is a large portion of Raymond's holdings that will be dispersed and she works overseeing the charities and foundations that arise from it. He broached the subject in the beginning but finding it difficult to dwell on how much of his wealth was gained, he leaves it to her judgement. She shares with him the good that comes of it but he rarely comments. Sometimes she sees the hint of a smile and hopes this helps his damaged heart.

In their bedroom where she can see it every day hangs a small painting of a windswept coast. She no longer wonders at the cloud filled sky or the turbulent waters. If the storm is coming in or going out. She has the answer now as she passes it on the way to the porch overlooking the water where he waits with her morning coffee.

They are still somewhere in the in-between. His former life gone forever and hers dramatically changed. It is a simple life they share now and it is enough. It is more than enough.

There will be a baby in the early fall and her mind wanders back to those days in New York when she was fearful of a _bad idea_ but powerless to turn back and unable to let him go.

 _Is this a bad idea?_ Because she needs to know what he thinks. The joy on his face soothes her soul but she needs his words to wash away the fear.

_How can it be when this is our life. It will be splendid._

And it is.


End file.
